A Cry for the Moon
by Anton M
Summary: A farmer. An actress who fails to tell him that she's famous. Therein hangs a tale. AH.
1. Homo Sapiens Isabellus

**Disclaimer:** The Twilight Saga is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended.

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**Summary:** Edward is a lonely struggling farmer, his ranch being the only thing left from his parents. Living in a valley and keeping horses is what keeps him away from his former dreams, but he is determined to preserve the secluded place he inherited. Bella is a successful actress, trying to stay true to herself in the indistinct world she lives in. As a consequence of the high expectations in her career, she finds herself lost in the knowledge of who the person she used to be, is. A road trip leads the girl – trying to stay away from the world, to the man – trying to find his way into it. Not knowing anything about Bella's career, Edward finds himself lost in Bella's captivating nature. What will Edward do after finding out who she is? Could they be together? AH

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**A Cry for the Moon  
**by Merevaik

**Chapter 1:** **Homo Sapiens Isabellus**_  
Jackson, Wyoming  
_

Heavy dust flew around, particularly noticeable in front of the unwashed windows where sunbeams cast into the wooden bank-house. The incessant sound of distant cheering was only interrupted by a few sneezes and coughs, but without the occasional sound of cellular phones and computers in front of bankers, one could easily think that the scenery derived from nineteenth century.

The bank should not have been opened, but the inhabitants of this small town in Wyoming had acquaintances who helped them out when necessary. Word got around easily and those few who thought they were the only ones to need bank services were followed by a few others, which soon formed an actual line in front of Edward.

On a holiday.

Edward, a twenty four year old inhabitant of a tiny – in population, not in size – village near Jackson, thought of himself as a relatively simple man. He lived a secluded life by circumstance, not by choice, and being alone had started to bother him more than he cared to admit. While farm-work was far from satisfying, it kept both his body and mind occupied, and he was grateful for that.

He considered his chances of creating a family pretty slim, not only because of his appalling appearance, but because Edward had nothing to offer… or he felt like he owned nothing but his heart to give and – in his eyes – that wouldn't be wanted unless he could earn enough to raise a family. Until the age of eighteen, Edward was certain that he could devote to his chosen occupation, and he had a Master's degree to show for it, but unfortunate circumstances brought him back from the University of Wyoming, back to where most of his childhood friends had stayed, where his brother lived and where an empty broken house he'd inherited waited for him.

Piece by piece, he took it down to build a new one.

Edward's date with Jessica hadn't been as bad as he'd feared, but not nearly satisfactory, either. Jessica, a blonde woman a year older than Edward, was fairly nice, single, didn't make his screwed-up face an issue and loved animals. But she didn't know what she wanted from life, was painfully self-conscious, air-headed, easily offended and loved gossip more than life itself. Edward had asked for her number because he'd reminded himself that he was in no position to be picky, but he knew he wouldn't call her. Edward wasn't waiting for love, but that didn't mean his hopes to find a person he could spend time with had vanished.

Edward started to tap his foot after glancing at his old white horse from the window. Indra let out a horselaugh, shaking her head fiercely.

Edward sighed as he found himself in front of the counter.

"Hello, sir. How may I help you?" the woman behind the counter hesitated, her eyes lingering on the scar on Edward's face longer than it would've been necessary. Her nametag read _'A. Webber.'_ The fact that Edward's appearance shocked her proved that she was new in this town. Surely, one couldn't know all the faces in town, but most of them became familiar. Especially a face like Edward's.

He offered the cheque in his hands. She excused herself and returned with the money after a few minutes. Edward raised his hand to grip the money, but grimaced from the pain his wrist caused.

"Thank you." Edward attempted a nonchalant smile.

"You alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks again." Edward shrugged it off; it was not that big of a deal. His wrist had been particularly painful for a month, but it had ached for a few years. Edward didn't think much of it.

Edward opened the front door. Hot dry air blew on his face, setting sun still high enough to give off heat.

He clasped the hat-brim to cover up the sun and lost the gap between him and Indra. Edward had had her for a long time, almost twenty one years. She was three years younger than Edward. He untied her from the fence, soothing her skittish mood with his calming voice. Indra was soon pacified enough for Edward to straddle her.

He made the sound of moving, and the horse obeyed as she started scurrying with light steps. She looked fragile and old, but the stamina and speed of her was something rare. Edward had been mocked by his new neighbours at first, but they learned quickly. When they realised Indra's real potential, they even wanted to buy her. But she wasn't for sale.

The streets of Jackson were filled with cheering people and celebration, and Edward was not the only one with a horse. He would celebrate the fourth of July in his own way – working, just as he always did.

The sound of a ringing phone startled him from within his thoughts.

"Yes?" Edward chose a path more secluded so that Indra's legs wouldn't be contused later on. Asphalt coating tended to do that.

"Edward, did ya get the money?" Emmett got straight to the business.

"I did. We can finally put the roof on my house; we're behind schedule way too much."

"We have a schedule?"

"Oh, come on, you know we have no time to waste. I'm actually intending to get this over with before I die." Edward stretched his hand to feel the pain in his wrist. It hadn't gotten worse since yesterday.

Emmett sighed. "Jeez, just askin'. Unfortunately I have my own errands to run..."

"Sounds like fun."

Emmett let out a quiet laugh and made Edward remember all the things he had yet to do.

"So did ya get that chocolate for my wife? Ya know she'll kill me with the hormones if she can't get her daily doses of sugar. She's turnin' rather grumpy already," Emmett sighed. Emmett's family – just like Edward – lived far from... well, everywhere. If someone went to town, it was inevitable to bring necessities to others.

"No?" Edward stated carefully.

"Ya didn't?" Emmett asked, surprised. "But ya don't forget things that easily, did anythin' happen?"

"Not particularly," Edward answered, avoiding the subject.

His strained voice was disappointed. "Well, I'll just live with my moody pregnant wife then."

"Sorry," Edward retorted as he pulled the left twine, the horse changing her movements more according to Edward's thoughts than actions. They'd been together for so long that the slightest touch made them aware of what the other one wanted.

"I'll survive. But does 'not particularly' entail a certain girl in itself? Because, ya know–"

Edward cut in. "I don't. And don't give me that crap about 'you're made for each other.' Stuff like that doesn't exist."

"Just sayin' it'd be time to settle down already. She's not that bad."

"That's the problem. Lack of love I could deal with. Lack of personality – that's another thing."

Edward heard him chuckle. "Alright, point taken. But please don't hide yourself under your work, ya need to lay back and have fun, too."

"Keep dreaming."

"Oh, I will," Emmett responded.

"See you soon."

"See ya."

Edward put the phone back to his pocket and re-settled the broad-brimmed hat. The weather hadn't changed been for months, it was hot and completely sapless. He gently urged Indra to ride faster.

Emmett had helped him keep the farm working at the beginning, but Edward was entirely on his own now. He wouldn't put the weigh of keeping a farm on his brother's shoulders, especially since Emmett had a family to feed.

Edward admired the mountains as he let Indra drink from the small river. The place was beautiful, even with drought, and Edward felt proud of his home valley. It was far away from densely inhabited areas, and while he didn't mind being back home, Edward would've never thought he'd have to uphold a farm at this young age.

But then again – Edward never thought he'd lose his parents before he was at least sixty.

He shrugged his shoulders, trying to dispel the course of his disarrayed thoughts. Edward patted Indra's neck; she got his message and finished drinking. They continued their journey through the valley. He could have bought a car as Emmett constantly badgered him about not owning one, but Edward didn't want a car even if he had the money... which he didn't.

But Edward was perfectly fine with his horse.

They reached the small serpentine river and crossed it without Edward coming off of Indra. The body of water wouldn't have been as diminished without the drought, otherwise he would've gone all the way to the narrow bridge.

Edward was lucky to have a deep artesian well in his backyard. Although taking the last money he owned, it made him more determined to keep this place going. Real estate agents had bothered Edward ever since his parents' death, but the place was legally his, and it would be sold only over his dead body.

Indra's calm pacing turned into a canter after Edward had grown tired of their slow pace. They moved along the riverbank, dodging away from it a few times to go along the path. The sun cast its last orange beams on the branches before disappearing behind the mountains. Indra continued to canter before the path lead them to the forest.

Edward heard laughter and immediately stopped the horse. His home was secluded, people barely wanted to come here with a map, and Edward hadn't seen anyone on his land for longer than he remembered. Was he hearing things?

The sound of a crash made Indra rear, but Edward managed to not fall off of her. The horse was still restless as Edward made her trot to the place he heard the crash. They went straight through the forest, uphill. Edward held his head low so that they could move faster.

Edward made it to the grovel road, and the situation a few hundred feet away from him made him urge Indra to move even faster, galloping their way there. Edward got off the horse as soon as she was close to the car crash.

The yellow Toyota was almost unrecognizable under a small tree. Pieces of glass were everywhere and smoke emitted from the engine.

Edward tried to open the front door to get the driver out of the car, but it wouldn't budge. He observed the insides of the car, and the girl in the front seat was the only person in there. He felt slightly relieved.

The girl in front of him was leaning against the airbag, her face not seen. Edward carefully put his head into the car to hear if she was breathing. Edward exhaled as he realised she was alive.

"Are you awake?" Edward inquired quickly, giving nervous glances to the amount of smoke around them. They didn't have much time.

She moved her head slightly and stuttered something.

"I'm sorry?" Edward said absentmindedly as he tried to, once again, move the door. It wasn't a successful attempt and still wouldn't shift.

"It... my leg – it _hurts_," the girl whispered as she turned her head. Even with the situation in front of him, Edward thought the girl seemed systematically neat. Her eyes were closed and there was a rash forming on her cheek, but her features suggested a beauty – not entirely classical, but all the more interesting.

More smoke came from the front of the car.

"Is it broken?" Edward asked, wishing she were conscious enough to answer him.

"I-I don't... think so," she retorted almost inaudibly while trying to open her eyes. Feeling her legs meant her back wasn't broken while not feeling them at all would've made Edward's job meaningless, because then he wouldn't be able to do what he thought of doing.

"Can you raise your arms?"

She grimaced, but obeyed. It became more difficult for Edward to see her face through smoke. He gripped her from under her arms and mildly pulled her up, testing if this could work. His wrist wasn't in the best condition, but it wasn't as bad as Edward thought.

She mumbled something. Edward didn't have the time to apologise, he could already see small flames coming from not too far from them. He heightened her body and angled it so that he could pull her out of the window. Her lightness made the job easier. Edward took her fragile body into his arms before flames heightened.

Edward started to run toward Indra.

The car exploded. The force of it threw them into the air for short a moment. Edward placed his arms behind the girl's neck and head to protect her from the impact. They landed on grass, a few feet from a tree.

"You alright?" Edward held his weight on his arms not to crush her. Her eyes were still shut and she started coughing.

Edward took that as a "yes" and lifted her body. He called Indra closer and placed the girl on her, straddling the horse a moment later. The girl was still weak and Edward held her on the waist to keep her steady. Edward lived so far from town the ambulance would've taken ages to get here, so he decided to take her home.

The car – or what was left of it – would stay there until Edward would think of what to do with it.

It had visibly darkened, the nightfall had already passed. But Edward didn't need light to find his way home, and neither did Indra.

The horse turned aside to a smaller path. It was a shortcut to Edward's farm. Edward tightly held on to the strange girl in his arms and took a breath to smell if she had an odour of alcohol on her.

She didn't, instead, she smelled like unnecessarily expensive perfume. But why had the girl crashed if she weren't even drunk?

Edward saw the outlines of his farmstead – five buildings altogether, the most important house unfinished, only walls and the floor done.

Where would Edward put her? She looked like the kind of girl who had everything perfect in her life, and he was about to keep her here overnight? Edward leaned forward to see her face. Her eyes were shut and breathing even. He smiled; the girl had felt comfortable enough to fall asleep on the horse.

They arrived home. Edward carefully slid down, not letting go of the girl meanwhile. She mumbled something incoherent, but he was cautious with her legs. He didn't want to cause any more pain than he already had, and he didn't want to wake her up, either.

He carried her to the house, which – although unfinished – was the only place he felt he could put her. Edward placed her on his old king-sized bed and meant to work overnight himself. He didn't want her to think he was using this situation, and he couldn't deny he had more than enough to occupy his mind. He tucked her in, made sure she would stay warm as he put all the blankets he owned on her, and sat beside the bed for a moment. Edward stared at the sky, hoping she wouldn't freak out seeing she was actually outside. The stars were beautiful.

The girl stirred and opened her eyes, sparkling in the starlight.

"Thank you," she uttered before shutting her eyes. Edward didn't think she would remember it later, but her words made him smile.

"Anytime," Edward answered before her heavy breathing insisted she had fallen asleep again.

Edward exited the house, locking the door after him. He knew nobody was around, but being careful never hurt anybody.

Indra stood still at the same place, just next to the lonely green ash. Edward took his bag, checking if his gun was safe, and put it in the granary before directing his mare to the other horses. Most of them were standing still, a sign they were sleeping.

Edward needed to clean the wood to make a reliable fence, so he went to the woodshed. Unused logs were filling the place; it covered everything except for one corner, where pieces of art could be found. They were the only thing left from his mother, and Edward still didn't know if he was going to use them.

He started to work on cleaning the logs, one by one. Electricity was brought by extension cord in this house, in granary and in the barn. Cleaning was rough and tedious, but it had to be done in order to continue renovating the sheds and barn.

Edward's thoughts lead him to the girl he saved today. He wouldn't forget her eyes that easily even if she left this place tomorrow. But what was she doing here?

He cleaned at least quarter of the logs before deciding it was enough for one night. He ate in the granary before checking on the electric fence. Back in the house, he locked the door and figured he could use carpets as a mattress and sleep on the floor. He pulled a few rugs out from under the bed, dismantling them before lying on the ground.

"Cold... so cold..." the girl muttered. Edward sat next to her to see her eyes.

"So cold..." she restlessly repeated, eyes still closed.

He put his hand on her forehead to feel her temperature. Cold sweat covered her heated face.

Edward put all his rugs on her, but the girl didn't stop shivering, so he couldn't see any other way to warm her than with his body heat. He laid down next to her, under the rugs but still above the blankets. Hesitant, he gently placed his arm around her. If she were upset in the morning, he'd let her. It wasn't as if she wouldn't be scared of him anyway.

Content to feel another body beside him, Edward drifted off to sleep.

.-*-.-*-.

"A musical? Ali, you have got to be kidding me!" Bella argued with her friend, hands-free phone in her ear as she turned left from the main road. She'd passed the dark wooden sign: 'WELCOME TO JACKSON, WYOMING' a few hours ago, and now she simply improvised. The road led her to forests, riverbanks and meadows. As long as it lacked humans, it would be perfect for her.

"Why? I think it's a wonderful idea!" Alice chirped to the phone.

"Have you ever heard me sing? I mean, actually _heard_ me sing?" Bella pulled a hand through her hair, trying to feel cooler in this hot climate. She thought she was used to this kind of weather, but apparently, she wasn't. Bella decided to open the window. The wind made her feel much better.

"No, but I'm sure you'll do great, just as always."

"No." Bella imagined the horrified people who'd be forced to listen to her. "The audience will want to rip their ears off after hearing me."

"Bells, Bells, Bells... for a person as famous as you, you surely need a serious confidence boost. After years of success in the business, how can you be so insecure?"

"I'm not being insecure, I'm being _real_. I can already see the headlines: 'Gullible public turned deaf by the _former_ actress, Isabella.'"

Bella heard Alice choke on her drink before laughter filled her ear. "Bella, amazing press material!"

"You wouldn't!" Bella laughed.

"You know I wouldn't. Speaking of press, where exactly are you?"

She was on her every-year trip to a place she wouldn't plan, a journey to somewhere secluded. Bella didn't plan out the whole trip; she only picked a state and summoned up necessities. Nobody knew where she was, and Bella had every intention of keeping it that way.

Bella's reply was intentionally vague. "Just... away."

"Like last year? Like the time you disappeared for two weeks, simply to tent in a random forest in Michigan?"

Bella tilted her head on the side, but it dawned on her that Alice couldn't see her gesture. "Kind of."

"But why? Normal people – though not so normal in your case–" a hint of a smug smile was in her voice, "–well, _other_ people just fly to Hawaii or Bahamas and sunbathe until their skin comes off, why do you feel the need to torture yourself?"

Bella made an effort not to sound upset. "Ali, we've talked about this before. I need to be away from people, even if it's just for a few weeks. It's necessary for my sanity."

"Fine," she muttered, not sounding agreeable at all. "But promise you'll take good care of yourself and let me know how you're doing, alright?"

"Yes, mom," Bella retorted, glad Alice couldn't see her, rolling her eyes.

"Don't you dare 'mom' me, young lady. I'm surprised the scientists haven't affirmed you as a new species yet with all that gawkiness. You could make history, you know: 'Homo Sapiens Isabellus.'"

"That sounds more like seaweed." Bella couldn't help but laugh wholeheartedly along with Alice. She put sunglasses on to cover the settling sun, shining straight in her face.

"Oh, I almost forgot, how was your date with the new guy? Jacob Black? The hunk from Washington."

Bella growled from the memory, but mostly from her own stupidity.

"That bad, huh?" Alice giggled. "I told you he was determined."

"You have no idea."

"You didn't give him your number, did you?" Alice asked matter-of-factly.

"I kind of did..." Bella said in shame. She felt like an idiot.

"You did _what_? But-but from your talk I understood you didn't like him that much. You do realise that will give him ideas?"

"I know. But he was so nice and kind to me, I felt bad for leaving him just like that. He's a great guy, but I just... I don't know. I see him more like a brother than anything else."

"You're going to have to say it to _him_, not me. I'm only concerned for your own well being, and if a lucky guy once wins your heart, I'll approve whoever that might be."

"Take a seat in that case, 'cause you have hundreds of years of waiting ahead of you."

Alice laughed. "They're just a tad afraid to approach you, that's all."

"A tad? Yeah, right," Bella said, voice only a little bitter.

The asphalt ended and a gravel road started as Bella neared a river. Mountains entailed a breath-taking view and the river glistened a few hundred feet under her. Just next to the river moved a horseback rider, cantering with his horse more gracefully than Bella had ever seen anyone ride before. Their cooperation was so smooth it was hard to tell if the man was giving instructions to the horse or if it was the other way round.

"Bells?" Alice's voice brought her back to Earth. She was unhappy to see that the forest covered the rider; it had been such a capturing motion to hold. She would find the perfect place for her tent and amuse herself with the memory and how far away real life had been from her.

"Did you hear a word I just said?" Alice challenged, knowing her wondering mind.

"Something about press... and music?" Bella guessed.

"Nice cover," Alice chuckled. "I actually wanted to know what I should tell the press about the place you are. It's the opening of your new soon-to-be blockbuster, and I have no idea what to tell them."

"Just tell them–" Bella hesitated. "Tell them I'm away. I don't want you to lie for me."

"Vacation would be bending the truth too much?"

"No, that's perfect."

"Also, think about the musical. Just sleep on it and give me the answer tomorrow," the manager in her revealed herself and Bella grimaced.

"But I–"

"I only need you to think about it," Alice said determinedly.

Bella sighed. "Okay, I will."

"Please don't let the last time happen again and come back in one peace, agreed?"

"I'll try."

"Be careful! Love ya!"

"Love you too."

Bella took the uncomfortable thing in her ear off. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd had a phone-conversation that would last for almost an hour. Bella usually didn't even have the time to answer her phone herself.

She knew it was rude not to go to the premiere of the film she was starring in, but she could afford to be rude just this once. The director of the film was hesitant to let her go, but Aro had become a friend who understood.

Bella loved acting, but it had made her such a workaholic she didn't think she could hold up the quality of her acting if she didn't do this. How could she be able to embark on being confident without knowing who she was? It would be like filling a plastic bag with air to make it bigger – only to find it empty afterwards.

She knew it was silly of her to take a journey alone just to find herself in a strange place. This was the fifth summer for her to do this, and she was grateful she had found a way to escape her world.

Bella had been in the business for a long time, but her career was still beginning. She had landed on a few serious parts lately, getting respect from more experienced actors and people she deeply respected. Critiques were not always nice, but there wasn't an actor who hadn't gotten a single negative review, so it was normal. Of course she loved making people happy with her work, but she had learned to find art in what she did, and improve by doing so.

All she needed was to find herself again.

Bella hadn't noticed that the sun had already gone, and took her glasses off. They slipped from her hand to the floor, just behind the gas pedal.

_Damn. _She started to reach for it, and laughed as she remembered Alice's words. She would definitely win the contest for the clumsiest creature known to mankind.

Bella heard her laughter echo in the valley, but still couldn't get her glasses. She decided to reach for it with her right hand, but it just went farther. She leaned forward only a little more before successfully gripping them.

Only too late did Bella realise she had let go of the steering-wheel, but not the gas pedal. Back in the seating position, the only thing she saw was her car's direction, a tree.

The sound of the crash hit her at the same time the force of the air bag did.

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**A/N:** Special thanks to my lovely beta cascsiany. I love feedback, both positive and negative. Thank you for reading!


	2. Stay

**Disclaimer: **The Twilight Saga is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended.

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**A Cry for the Moon  
**by Merevaik

**Chapter 2: ****Stay  
**

Something buzzed in Edward's pocket before he quickly shut off the mobile, checking if the disturbing sound had wakened the unknown girl next to him. She stirred, but didn't open her eyes. Sitting up caused Edward to shiver from the cold and he felt pain in his forearm, but he checked Bella's temperature with his rough hands as gently as he could. She wasn't too warm, just slightly sweaty.

Carefully hauling the blanket back on her, Edward got up, seeing first signs of sunrise that began to lighten the surroundings. It was probably starting to reach six o'clock.

Edward took a moment to observe the girl, trying to cuddle against the place he'd been in. He smiled, but went to another room to pick up his clothes.

Placing them under his arm, he unlocked the door and shoved it open, letting the sunbeams inside. He jogged to the riverbank. Throwing the clothes away, he jump straight into it and swam upriver, trying not to think of sending away the girl. Edward held his breath when he doubled back on his tracks, a blurry vision of his horses eating on the riverbank letting him know that they'd woken.

Edward felt hesitant about facing the girl in the daylight. He'd have to do it sooner or later – though he preferred later – even when Edward's skewed face frightened or disgusted her. Unsure if Bella would want to get the hell out of this secluded place as soon as possible, he didn't know how she'd react. The thought of another disgusted person made Edward grimace, but he dared to hope for the best, and even if Bella's reaction was negative, it wouldn't have been abnormal. He'd seen it before.

Edward didn't keep any mirrors in his farmstead, and not because he was scared of how out of the ordinary and appalling his face made him, but because of the reminder it represented. He still felt guilty for the accident he caused when he was fifteen, and the remorse grew almost unbearable when he blamed himself for his father's death.

And though he understood nothing could be done about it, his self-reproach only grew in time.

Sighing, Edward stepped out of the water and got dressed.

The routine he'd inconspicuously grown into filled the next hours of his morning, but this time, his mind pondered on different matters than farming. The appearance of the city-girl became a bitter reminder of his lonely life, and as much as he hated to admit it, her appearance would probably turn him more resentful when she left. In his mind, her leaving felt like a natural train of events.

Edward crouched next to the food-bag in the corner of the granary, deciding to take the whole bag with him because he knew nothing of the girl's preference.

Stepping inside the house, he noticed her opened eyes, staring at the ceiling. Or rather, the lack of it. The girl turned her head and immediately sat up, attempting to tuck her hair behind her ears. Her right cheek had darkened into nasty-looking blue, but in Edward's eyes, the dark rash was the only visible reminder of her crash.

Choosing to postpone showing his face as long as possible, Edward sat next to the girl, but stared at his lap, revealing only his profile. He felt a little awkward in this position. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

The girl's eyes examined her surroundings. She hazily remembered coming here, but she couldn't deny that the absence of a ceiling had startled her. She let her eyes linger on the shy man in front of her, but to her dismay, the man wouldn't lock eyes with her. Bella felt disarmed and thought it would be polite of him to at least look at her.

"I feel quite fine, actually. I have a little headache, but nothing an aspirin couldn't fix," she replied, distantly polite to the man who wouldn't look her in the eye.

"Do you remember the crash?" he inquired, carefully staring out of the window – or at the place where a window would soon be.

Bella frowned, recalling the situation that had became normal for her. She whispered, "Yeah..."

"What happened?"

"I'm just... being me..." Bella vaguely answered, blushing.

Edward frowned, but didn't comment on the subject. Instead, he uncomfortably introduced himself. "I don't believe I know your name. I'm Edward. And you are?"

'_Is__ he playing with me?'_ Bella thought, ineluctably (and with shame) searching for a sign of recognition. But the man in front of her kept staring at his lap as if nothing more interesting existed. The man pulled a sandwich and a banana out of the textile bag, but carefully avoided revealing too much of his face.

'_Is it possible he really doesn't know, is__n't trying to trick money out of me and get his fifteen minutes_ _of_ _fame?'_ Bella drew a blank, embarrassed that her first thoughts of her name lead to exploitation, yet feeling that her questions were inevitable. It wasn't about the size of her ego – well, maybe only a little – it was a situation she felt prepared for because it had became a natural response. She flushed, knowing that she needed to be brought back to Earth.

"I'm... Bella," she murmured, starting to bite her fingernails as he kept pulling food out of the bag. Biting fingernails calmed her nerves, and regardless of how many times she'd tried to quit, her attempts had failed.

Edward showed no evidence of recognition at all. Absolutely nothing.

An unavoidable smile covered her face. He would have to be a pretty darn good actor not to show he knew who Bella was; yet, there was no sign of identification, only the recondite expression she couldn't quite understand.

Edward simply placed a sandwich in her hands. "Is this okay? I don't have much..."

Happy that Edward didn't feed her the over-used 'such a beautiful name' line – frankly, she'd heard it enough to last a lifetime – and nearly exhilarated that Edward sincerely didn't know who she was, Bella beamed at his inane concern. "It's perfect." Bella eagerly bit the bread; she was so sick of the salads Alice forced her to eat. She was young, merely twenty one years of age, and she wasn't delighted to constrain herself with perpetual dieting, which Alice insisted was necessary to keep Bella 'in fashion.'

Bella needed energy. Her attempts to explain that to Alice had came to nothing, and her ill-coloured face, constant lack of energy, headaches and even a few missed periods clearly signalled that Alice knew little of healthy eating. Bella had seen a doctor a few months ago and her health had started to return, but she still felt weak and fragile. She'd been naturally slim until she ruined her health – turning her almost painfully skinny – and now she missed having energy. She wouldn't mind gaining back the few curves she'd once had.

Edward's disbelieving huff brought Bella out of her reverie, and she focused her eyes on the awkwardly shy man in front of her.

With broad shoulders and toned muscles, Edward was obviously naturally athletic. His unkempt half-long hair made his appearance more real than any of the actors Bella had met or stayed friends with, but she couldn't tell if he was handsome. She could see Edward's profile; his sharp jaw-line and curved eyebrow suggested a subtle appeal, maybe a modest charm, but Bella felt unsure how much she attached to his appearance because of his nature.

She found herself being envious of the earthy life he must've lived.

"Bella." Edward bit his sandwich, still not raising his eyes or turning his head. "Why'd you come here? Did you get lost or... lost?"

She snickered. "Lost or lost? Hm... I think the latter beats the former, but I'd prefer the choice in the middle."

Edward smiled briefly, but quickly covered his expression with reserved seriousness. Bella wondered if his neck ached from being in the same position for such a long time.

"Edward, would you turn your face toward me?"

He shook his head, taking another bite. "I'd rather not."

"Please?"

Edward closed his eyes. "Don't ask me to do that."

"Why?"

"Just... don't," he replied sadly, almost desperately. Bella easily figured that there must've been something seriously wrong with it, and thought of the worst scenarios: half of his face might've been missing, badly scarred, burned, cut, she even thought of a missing eyeball, but her imagination knew nothing of the real reason why Edward wouldn't turn his head. She decided to fix that problem.

She felt guilty at the concept of what she wanted to pull off, but she knew the man in front of her was a good natured guy who'd care. Acting to save a man from his shyness didn't seem like such a bad choice.

Bella humped herself into a cocoon, holding on to her leg.

"Ow!" she let out, biting her lip. "Ow..."

Edward immediately rose and kneeled in front of Bella, observing her legs. "What happened? Where does it hurt?"

Regardless of being unprepared as to what she'd see, Bella managed to not grimace. Or show any reaction at all, really. She simply stared at his face, thoughtful.

A moment later, Edward's eyes locked with Bella's as he realized his mistake, whispering, "Of course..."

Bella spontaneously reached out to touch the scar. Edward had shut his eyes, trying to swallow his bitterness and negative expectations.

"D-does it hurt?" Bella traced the dark contours of the scar, starting from the top of his forehead and ending at the side of his chin, re-defining the features of his face. If Bella were being honest with herself, the scar did make her feel uncomfortable. She felt neither disgusted nor disappointed, but the thought of what had to have happened to Edward scared her. She openly examined his face, attempting to get used to it.

"You need to go, Bella," Edward muttered, barely audible as he shook his head. He had no idea who the girl was, but he couldn't get used to the idea of being pitied by another person. Edward sat on the bedside and avoided looking at Bella.

"But–"

"Do you have anyone who could pick you up? Where do you live?" he insisted, getting up.

Startled by his sudden hostile voice, Bella frowned. The man hadn't greeted her with open hands and a smiling face, but she could interpret that as lack of confidence. She'd thought of his cold modesty as a part of his nature, but she now realised Edward's appearance made him feel deeply awkward. Bella stopped chewing. "Wait, I don't–"

"Jackson? Cheyenne? I could let Emmett give you a lift." Edward put the remains of the food back to the bag, still refusing to look at Bella.

"Los Angeles," she muttered, starting to bite her fingernails after having eaten her breakfast. She felt nervous, and perhaps a little sad that the man had taken her lack of reaction for appallment. Bella thought of arriving to Los Angeles only four days after happily leaving the city behind. She disliked the idea of returning so much that she immediately neglected it entirely.

"Excuse me? Didn't catch that..." Absent-minded, Edward placed the food-bag in the corner of the room. His mind busied itself with appallment toward himself – he hadn't intended to start driving away his first companion (after an incredibly long time), he simply couldn't help it. Perhaps his social skills had crumbled from lacking to non-existent.

"Los Angeles," Bella repeated, voice a little louder.

"Los – _what?_" Edward snapped out of his self-deprecating thoughts before he raised an eyebrow. "What the hell are you doing in Wyoming with a car?"

Bella sighed. "Resting."

Confused, Edward shook his head. Bella noticed that the deep scar intensified his every emotion. Her eyes lingered on it more than she wanted Edward to know, but she knew she wouldn't feel comfortable getting caught staring at it.

"You're not afraid of me?" Edward questioned, deciding to face the problem. "Scared? Disgusted by how I look?"

"Should I be?"

Edward laughed without humour. "Well, yes."

Knowing that honesty solved more problems than acting as if she didn't care, Bella boldly stepped closer to Edward to take his chin into her hand. "I won't care if you don't. I cannot, however, help you with the problem you create in your head."

Stunned, Edward remained motionless before he burst out, "I don't know if you are looking at the right person, but there's a _half_ of my face _missing_! It's burnt and disgusting!" He clenched his fists.

The sound of a slap echoed in the quiet area.

Edward's eyes bore into Bella's as he rubbed his face.

"Just thought you'd need a little reality check," Bella said, blushing – no acting could erase that. "Let's just sit, okay?"

Edward nodded, slowly calming down. Surprised at her own boldness – she'd never slapped a man in "real life" before – Bella motioned for Edward to sit down next to her. She pulled a leg under her, staring at his stiff posture and warped smile.

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened?" she quietly asked, content that Edward stopped avoiding her gaze. The burn scar was sharp and unusually dark, defined on his forehead, but vague on his cheek, forming into many different lines at the bottom of it. Bella felt relieved that she was starting to get used to it.

"An... accident," he replied, eyes not focused on anything in particular. He pulled his hand through his half-long hair, deep in thought. "And yes, I do mind."

Silent, it occurred to Bella that this was the first time in a long while when something was being denied to her. As a strange reaction, she shrugged her shoulders and smiled. Acceptance held more possibilities than stubborn questioning, which could easily lead to annoyance. It was none of her business.

The idea that the girl in front of her might've played a psychological game on him wouldn't leave Edward's mind. He couldn't understand why Bella thought his face was a problem created in his mind – every mirror reflected the same screwed-up face, his mind had nothing to do with it.

"Does it really not bother you my face is... messed up?"

Again, Edward's (unnecessary in her eyes) concern only managed to amuse Bella. "Wasn't one slap enough for you? 'Cause, you know, I have a bunch of them in store for you should you need them..." Bella raised her chin to show her seriousness.

Edward chuckled a little. It wasn't cheerful, but the somberness faded a little.

"So, Bella," he curiously gazed at her, "what brings you to this god-forsaken valley, this of all places?"

"I just needed to get away from... people."

This time, Edward sincerely laughed. "You have chosen the right place – we're probably the only people within 15 mile radius!"

"We are?"

He nodded, still smiling. "My brother Emmett lives the closest, behind this very same mountain." Edward pointed at the high peak seen from the place they were sitting at. "And my other neighbours live on the other side of the river, just behind that corner over there." He raised his hand, showing Bella a barely visible place far from them. "But they're only here on winters. I used to have ranch hands, but I couldn't afford them this summer. I'll be lucky to get a roof on the house."

"But won't it get... boring? Lonely?" Bella asked, wondering if he liked the isolation this place offered him.

"Oh, boredom is never an issue. But loneliness–" he fugitively closed his eyes, "I got used to it, eventually. If I hadn't gone to Jackson yesterday, you'd be the first person I met in 'bout two weeks."

"Seems like paradise to me," Bella smiled.

"You'd willingly put yourself into this position, not talking to anyone for _weeks_?"

"Without hesitation," Bella answered. She couldn't understand the disbelief in Edward's face, just like she genuinely missed isolation.

Edward huffed, not sure if she were serious. "You've got a big family, haven't you?"

"Not particularly," she parried the question.

"Then you don't know what you're talking 'bout."

Bella disagreed, but kept her mouth shut. Her eyes landed on Edward's natural tan, and she felt a pang of sadness because all her attempts to tan had ended with painful sunburn. She'd used self-tanning lotions a few times, but it wasn't the same and Bella quit using them because it felt too artificial. Her little brother injected confidence in her and she'd almost created a style of her paleness, but she couldn't deny that being naturally golden-brown sounded tempting.

"Bella? Did you hear what I just said?" Edward waved his hand in front of her face.

"Pardon?"

Back to his usual modest (yet awkward) self, Edward pulled Bella on her feet and motioned toward the door. "You said you lived in LA, right?"

"Yeah," Bella shrugged, showing less sadness than she felt. It suddenly occurred to her that she didn't remember how damaged her car was. "Where's my car?"

"The metallic scrap will be sent to the dumping ground."

"Oh. But I guess it doesn't matter."

Not knowing anything of Bella's tendency to break cars – a habit, really – Edward merely shrugged his shoulders. "If you say so."

They walked toward the river.

"I do," Bella answered, muttering 'hopeless' under her breath. They reached riverbank, sat on some logs and silently eyed the river. The riverbank stood about ten feet in height, but retreated downriver and disappeared where the forest started. Burnt grass created the image of yellow scenery, but fortunately, the leafy forest wiped that effect off a little.

"You had a fever last night, are you sure you feel alright?" Edward broke the silence, his concerned eyes examining Bella.

"Just fine. My leg feels like it's not mine, but I'm okay."

Edward huffed sceptically, but didn't argue. "And you're not in shock from the accident? Is that the reason you're not afraid of me?"

Bella rolled her eyes. "Don't overestimate your scariness, I'm not afraid of you. And I've crashed before, it's nothing special."

To the press, her crashing almost became an opportunity to earn money – if nothing else happened, surely, the actress had broken another car – but they were unaware of Bella's little disability, just like Alice was. It was probably the only important aspect of her life that Alice didn't know about, and her tiny friend shared the opinion that Bella simply couldn't handle driving, labelling her a professional car-crasher. Bella's brother struggled with the same disability, but he'd obtained driving licence a few years ago and had managed to avoid wrecking cars the way Bella did. In order to avoid putting her life in danger – she clearly failed to learn from her own mistakes when it came to driving – a year ago, she'd hired a driver.

The press eventually calmed down and had not bothered to gossip about it for an entire year. But she wanted to go on her trip alone. Bella sincerely hoped her latest incident wouldn't end up in yellow pages.

"_Nothing special_?" Edward's face scrunched up. "How many times have you crashed?"

Bella smiled vaguely. "More than I would've liked."

Edward shook his head in disbelief before he started to search for something from his pocket. "If I convince Emmett to give you a lift, will you go with him? You could borrow money from me, but as much as I'd like to give it to you, I do need a roof. You could buy a plane ticket for yourself before sending money back to me. Alright?"

"Okay." Bella gave him a positive answer in spite of not wanting to leave.

"Good, wait here, I'll be right back." Edward started to jog toward the house, leaving Bella behind.

Despite the crash, Bella's intentions of spending her vacation hadn't changed. She'd discovered that Edward was simple to be around because he didn't know who she was, and Bella wished that wouldn't change. It had been too long since she'd met a person who took her for who she was, not forcing her into the description they thought suited best for her. Unfortunately, mixing them up was far too easy.

Suddenly, Bella leaped up as a brilliant – at least in her mind – idea occurred to her. What stopped her from staying here? Sure, she had no money to offer (right away) for his potential kindness, and she couldn't be sure if the man would agree to let her stay here at all, but an unused opportunity would only lead to regrets.

She ran after Edward, finding her way around the broken fences. "Edward?"

"Yes?" he called from the house.

Bella reached the stairs. "I have a proposition to–" her foot got stuck to the staircase before she tumbled down on stairs, a suppressed cry of pain falling from her lips. She inhaled, turned around, examined her already bruised legs and flushed from the embarrassment of her scream. She didn't mind falling and hurting herself because bruises (and broken bones) healed, but the most humiliating part of being clumsy didn't emerge with falling – it emerged with the groans she failed to force back. If Bella could break all bones in her body without uttering a single syllable, she'd feel like the happiest _un_abashed girl alive for once.

Bella raised her eyes only to see Edward holding a helping hand out to her. "Do you need any help?"

She shook her head, denying his assistance and getting up on her own. "It's a curse," she muttered before taking a deep breath and locking eyes with him, carefully avoiding staring at his scar. "Could I stay?"

"Excuse me?"

"I mean here – this farm, your home?"

"Why?" Edward frowned and scratched his neck.

"Because I don't want to go back and I have nowhere else to go."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're not an escaped prisoner trying to hide from authorities?"

Bella laughed.

"For how long?" Edward asked, unable to figure out if the girl played a game on him. He couldn't see a reason for her to stay and believed she'd become more a burden than a help. He was certain she'd be bored out of her mind in mere days.

Bella impulsively jump into his arms, crushing him in a hug and knowing she'd won. "Two weeks?"

Edward felt uncomfortable, but awkwardly returned the hug. He hadn't learned to be as forward as the girl in front of her – hell, he'd never been the type who immediately opened up to strangers, especially after his father's death. Edward pulled away, not knowing whether to laugh or cry at the situation.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," she replied and let a smile cover her lips, but that was soon replaced by worry. "I mean, I don't have to stay, I'm not trying to be pushy or anything..."

The girl's eyes flickered on Edward's face, but he didn't return the gaze. Thoughtful, Edward didn't react immediately and he grimaced a little. Bella thought the worst as her face scrunched up, but before she could apologise, Edward smiled slightly. "If you insist."

Bella punched him, smiling. "Seriously? I don't even know you and here I am, trying to convince you to let me stay here."

Edward returned the smile, knowing he could easily convince her to leave sooner when she got too bored. He mockingly raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, 'cause you see all the people I live with objecting wildly against it. Including me."

"Funny." Bella chuckled, rolling her eyes.

Edward let his observing gaze linger on the labyrinth of houses. "Sure you can stay, but I don't have much to offer you."

"Do you really think I'm some spoiled metropolitan brat from LA?" Bella pondered, accusing more insistently than she intended. She bit her thumbnail, wondering if her own accusations were true. She verged toward affirmation, though a tiny part of her hoped that she could be useful. Bella made a mental note to not complain while she was here.

"That's not what I meant. You see how this is–" he waved toward the houses, "all broken, old, and hell – we don't even have a roof on us!"

Bella placed her hand on his. "I don't care. I can even pay for staying here."

"Pay? Not everything is measured in money," Edward sighed, disappointed in her behaviour as he withdrew his hand. He remembered his parents' opinion about the people from "the city" who came with condescension as if every moment and mistake could be bought. The assurance of knowing that when you messed up, your parents would fix the error for their child felt completely strange for him. Everything he'd earned in life he had to work hard for, nothing just fell on his lap. Living where he did, alone, self-reliance turned from necessary to mandatory.

Bella grimaced, intentionally biting her finger instead of its nail. She felt exactly like the kind of person she'd sworn she would never become. If he'd let her stay here, she'd do everything to fix her attitude.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Can I help you out with farm work? I work hard and learn quickly."

"That's the spirit I'm looking for," he replied, a hint of a smile as an assurance.

Bella smiled as she changed the subject. "Do you know what time it is?"

Edward turned about, leaving sun a little left from him. He raised his hand in front of him and fisted it before counting something. "It's probably eleven."

Bella felt awed. "You can tell the time by looking at the sun and shadows?"

"Yes?"

"Wow," she simply replied.

"Not really, you just have to know where south is and what time of year it is."

"Could you teach me how to do it?"

"Sure," Edward shrugged, and Bella thought that maybe he wasn't as reluctant to let her live here as he showed. Bella felt as if she were forcing herself into Edward's life, but also wanted to prove to herself that she wasn't as spoiled as she occasionally thought. She simply needed the opportunity and isolation.

Edward's home, no doubt, filled both requirements.

.-*-.-*-.

Edward had tried to convince her that she'd have to rest after having a fever, but his words met determined glares. Edward could only hope her fever wouldn't show up after a day spent working. He quit trying to hide how much he appreciated the company when she was beside him, eager to help. She wasn't half-bad, either.

Firstly, they began searching for clothes that would fit her. Edward had been alone in this farm for five years, three of which he mostly spent in the University of Wyoming. Finding female clothes in a place like this felt like a foolish idea, but Edward insisted that there had to be something, somewhere.

They'd searched through the bigger shed and the barn – renovating the house meant that everything was scattered in other buildings – and were currently in the small shed. After moments of their "specific" exploration, Bella pulled a plastic bag out from under an old table in the corner, spilling its content on the table already filled with stuff.

A pair of pants caught her eye, and she calculated if they'd fit. "Whose are these?"

Edward attempted to recall any memories of a female staying here. "Ah, Rosalie's."

"Who's Rosalie?"

"My brother's wife," Edward replied and smiled as he found giant boots for Bella. Edward realised Rose and Emmett hadn't stayed here since Rose got pregnant.

"Oh," she muttered before a blush appeared on her cheeks. "I'll try them on."

The old blue jeans were rather big for her, and that surprised Edward as he knew Rose had always been fit. "What do they feed you back in LA? Air?"

"Almost," Bella sighed sadly, reminding herself to eat more. One day, Alice would (literally) murder her with her diets. "Do you have a belt... or a string... or something?"

"No idea," Edward responded, for the first time truly observing Bella. The fragile girl barely reached Edward's shoulders, kept chewing on her fingernails and could've easily been from sixteen to twenty years old – approximately eighteen, he assumed. Her eyes and hair matched in colour and although her features made her beautiful, she appeared to be tired and far too thin in his eyes.

"Did you escape from Auschwitz? Or are you struggling with anorexia? I don't want you to die of starvation while you're under my responsibility," Edward said sincerely, but only realised his brusque manner when the words had already left his mouth. It had been far too long since he'd truly spent time with a girl, and an attractive one at that.

Bella felt like she wanted to cry, she'd read too many assumptions targeted at her weight and was unable to tell any of them that her manager and one of her best friends had messed up her health. She was too loyal to do that. Bella audibly gulped. "Neither."

Edward felt like he wanted to die. "Is this the place where you tell me you've got a fatal disease?"

Staring at Edward's horrified expression, Bella suddenly snorted. "God, no. I honestly don't like being this little, it bothers me not to have energy and I feel ugly. You can help me gain weight."

Relieved, Edward offered her a sincere smile. "I'm glad. And I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply..."

"It's okay, really," Bella assured, "I'm glad you're honest. I might not like what you said, but I cannot deny that you're right."

Feeling more at ease, they awkwardly smiled at each other. Edward found a yellow string for Bella's jeans that didn't match her clothing at all, but Bella couldn't care less. The string even made her feel kind of cool.

Edward struggled to wrap his head around his lack of social skills – he'd warmed up to the idea of a companion, too much so, but he still felt a little embarrassed around her. He could tease and smile and be a normal person – well, a _relatively_ normal person – but the painful truth that he couldn't act around her got clearer with every moment. His remedy?

Practice.

He chuckled and drew Bella's attention.

"What?" she cocked her eyebrow, smiling. "Is it not clean enough? Am I missing something?" She pointed at the barn corner they were trying to get clean to temporarily change the location of the fridge.

"No, keep going," Edward assured, and she slumped down again. He gazed at her tiny body, thinking that he might've judged her too quickly. It was obvious that she got tired more easily than a girl that young should have and her arms were far too narrow, but he couldn't disagree with the girl's obvious attraction. Men who worshiped the zero-size fashion were probably all over her in LA. The thought made Edward feel appalling and insignificant.

Cowering beside her as they attempted to brush the cobwebs away, Edward broke the silence. "Remember what you said earlier about not knowing me?"

Bella brushed a lock of hair out of her face and secured her hair in a bun. "Yes?"

"Well, it's fixable."

"What is?"

"Not knowing each other," Edward made a 'duh' face.

Bella smiled. "Okay, what do you want to know?"

"Full name?"

Her face crunched up, eyes not focused on him as she quickly uttered her name. "Isabella Marie Swan, you?"

"Edward Anthony Masen."

"Can I call you Tony?" she asked, smirking.

"No way."

She laughed. "Go figure."

Bella and Edward got familiar with one another, and Edward started to feel more comfortable around her. But they didn't cross the line between personal and too personal. Edward wasn't eager to share the story of his face, and he was glad to see that she respected the boundaries.

They had finished lunch, were heading toward the woodshed, and Bella was immensely amused that Edward could play banjo of all instruments.

"But why? Why not something normal: piano, guitar, maybe violin?"

"Normal?" Edward laughed at her choice of words. "Technically I can play the guitar, but the first thing I learned was still banjo, from my father."

Bella opened her mouth, but closed it without uttering a single word.

Edward continued cleaning the logs as Bella stared at the shed with determination. He stopped for a moment, raising an eyebrow at her – she bit her fingernail and let her eyes follow the furniture of this messy place.

"Do you know what this place lacks of?" she questioned. Twirling her way around the mess of logs, tables, stools and shelves and reaching the other end of the shed, she put her hands on her hips.

"Everything?" Edward answered simply. He didn't care about the mess as long as it didn't interfere with work. As much as he was concerned, that never happened.

"No."

"So what _does_ this place lack of? Order?" Unworried, Edward placed the log he'd cleaned out of the way and started with another one.

Bella appraisingly measured the shed. "Female touch."

Edward forced back laughter, but a chuckle still got out. "Don't tell me you want to clean this place. It's a woodshed, Bella, not a castle."

She ignored his words. "Do you mind if I make some changes in here?"

"I do."

Bella smiled, but her face scrunched up as she raised her hand, putting a millimetre in between her thumb and forefinger. "Little, insignificant changes?"

"I mind," Edward repeated and took another log.

Bella sat down in surrender. "Well, can I have one corner to work with?"

Edward paused, cocking his head back before he observed the woodshed and found a place behind an old cupboard that he hadn't used and probably wouldn't need. Her 'female touch' would probably ruin it, but it was tiny enough to render it up. Edward motioned toward it before muttering, "Don't make me regret my decision."

Being Bella, she ran to Edward and tightly hugged him. Edward awkwardly returned it before he quickly pulled away.

"You won't regret it," Bella grinned, heading toward the corner she could clean. She found satisfaction in turning a messy place into an actually neat place, she always had. Alice teased that if Bella hadn't succeeded in acting, she'd earn her living as a janitor. She probably wouldn't have minded. Cleaning was physical and automatic.

Acting was physical and "manual."

Not much of difference other than the extent of mind-usage.

Under the pile of old curtains, clothing, broken toys and fossilised food, Bella discovered expired oil colours that emitted a wide smile on her face. Excited, she dug further and uncovered a few unused canvases. They were beige from the burden of time, but otherwise well-preserved and unharmed. Nothing could've lifted her mood better than this obvious recollection of the past few years when she'd learned Fine Arts in college.

Carefully setting the canvases aside, Bella enthusiastically brushed, wiped and washed the corner. Stretching her back, she smiled at the evidence of her labour. Bella gripped the side of an empty canvas, but another one fell to the floor from behind the cupboard.

She turned it over. "Edward?"

"What is it?" he yelled from the other side of the shed, logs clanking in the background.

"Do you paint?"

The clanking stopped and Edward's footsteps followed. Bella held the painting in front of her, observing the handsome boy in the picture. Dirt covered every surface of his skin, a muddy horse lay behind him and a stupid grin was plastered on the boy's face. A river glistened in the scenery.

"Is this you?" Bella asked without tearing her eyes from the picture.

"Where'd you get that?" Edward stepped behind her, suddenly facing a picture he hadn't seen for nearly ten years. After his incident nine years ago, Edward had demanded that all pictures of him would be destroyed, but apparently, his mother – a painter – had ignored his bitter request. Edward expected to feel angry if not furious, but the emotion in him could only be perceived as acceptance. Surprisingly, gazing at the old picture, he no longer felt resentful. He silently eyed the painting, a reminder of his kind mother.

Interpreting his silence the wrong way, Bella apologised. "I'm sorry, I just found it here, you don't have to answer." She started to put the painting back, but Edward set his hand on hers before she could.

"It is me," he muttered almost to himself. "It was the first time for me to canter. My father freaked out because the horse spooked, but mom saw me laughing and took a picture after making sure I was okay. She was fond of pictures, you know. But as a painter, she ended up painting them on canvas. Her name was Esme."

Surprised that the man shared this with her, Bella tore her eyes from the picture to look at him, but that didn't nearly match up to Edward's reaction, who immediately withdrew his hand in awkwardness. But he didn't feel as uncomfortable as he commonly did, and as he locked eyes with her, Edward felt that he could trust a person who made him accept his memories.

"I'm sorry," Edward smiled slightly, "it's been a long time since I last talked to anyone about it."

Bella hadn't seen Edward be so humble before, so she simply nodded. "It's okay."

The awkward moment passed, and Edward thoughtfully walked back to his logs.

"Edward?" Bella called after him.

"Mh?"

"Can I paint on the empty canvases?"

Again, Edward discovered that he sincerely didn't mind. "Sure, if you can paint," he chuckled.

Bella snorted before going round the corner to look at him. "If you take the subtle implication of a skill out of that sentence, sure I can. To see art in art _is_ art."

Edward smiled and started to clean the logs, realising how much Bella's perspective of the world matched his mother's. Esme had insisted that a bad artist was one without equipment, and even then, anything applied as art.

.-*-.-*-.

The sky had darkened when they finally left the woodshed. Bella tried to keep up with Edward's long strides, almost jogging next to him. She had another preposition in her mind, but she didn't have a clue as to how it would be answered.

"Could you teach me how to ride with a horse?" she finally asked, raising an eyebrow impishly. She'd seen how well Edward did it and that made her feel incompetent.

"In two weeks?"

"Well, yeah," she brought a hand to her mouth to bite her fingernail, but twiddled with her fingers instead.

Edward stared at the tiny girl next to him. "Alright," he replied, "what 'bout tomorrow as the first day?"

Feeling relieved, Bella let out a laugh. "I'll check my schedule."

Edward, amazed that a person could be so easy-going, joined in with her laughter. They neared the house, this day's work almost done. Edward couldn't find the volition to continue right away – at least not while he could spend time with his new company.

"What about the horses?" Bella inquired as they entered the house.

"They'll be fine, we don't need to check on them for three times a day," Edward answered, locking the door behind him. A moment later, Bella smacked her forehead as she realised she'd completely forgotten about Alice. Alice must think Bella had been already murdered and buried.

"Edward? Could I use your phone for a moment?" Bella timidly asked as Edward sat on the bedside.

"Sure?" he replied and pulled the phone out of his pocket before handing it over to her. "Do you need privacy?"

Bella chuckled. "Oh, no, I just need to give Alice a call. She's my man–" she forced herself to shut up before she said 'manager'. "–friend."

Edward scowled, but smiled; a weird combination Bella failed to unravel. "Alice as a man-friend? He must've had a tough childhood."

This time Bella did laugh, understanding how wrong that sounded. "No, she's a girl. I don't know why I said that, she's my best friend."

Bella beat herself up from the inside. _'Man-friend? Seriously?'_

She dialled the number and sat on the bed as Edward went to the other room to check on something.

"Alice Brandon, Isabella's manager, how may I help you?" Alice's worn-out voice murmured to the phone.

"Wow, way to scare the callers away," Bella chuckled, hoping to ease her mood.

"Bella? Is that you?" she yelled as Bella held the phone away from her ear.

"Yep, as _me_ as I can get," Bella answered.

"_Where_ have you _been_? I called you _–what–_ at least a _hundred_ times; I've been worried _sick_ over you! What happened to you? Where the hell are you? It's one thing that I know you're alright when I'm forced to lie to people, but _you_ go ahead and _disappear _completely! Are you alright?" her voice blared to the phone as Bella held it away from her ear with staggered success.

"I'm fine, Ali, I'm sorry for not calling you earlier." I took a deep breath. "I had an... accident, but a guy was generous enough to save me and let me stay here for two weeks."

"Wait – rewind a little. An accident? Oh, no, don't tell me... _again_?"

"Yeah..."

"And he's not even demanding an award for your head? You're not held hostage somewhere in the desert? He's not taking advantage of your situation?"

"He kind of doesn't know who I am," Bella whispered.

"_What?_ Are you serious? He doesn't know _who you are_? Is he a caveman or something?" Alice asked incredulously.

"Nope, and I'm not going to tell him either. Besides, there _are_ people who're not in the entertainment-business and live a real life, not the made-up one."

"B-But still, how can he not know? You'll tell him eventually, will you? And is he cute?" Bella could hear a victorious smile in Alice's voice.

"I don't know. And I'd say, in an odd way, he's rather cute." Bella felt a blush rise to her cheeks.

"Aw. That's awesome! You're so blushing right now, aren't you?"

Bella didn't answer and saw Edward enter the room with an apologetic smile.

"Listen, I need to go... I'll let you know how I'm doing, okay?"

"_No_– I need to know where you–"

"Bye, Alice! Love you!"

Bella abruptly ended the call and gave the phone back to Edward, who raised an eyebrow. "_Who_ doesn't know who you are?" he asked, sitting next to Bella.

"Nobody?" Bella replied, biting her thumbnail.

"But I thought we could fix that, couldn't we?" Edward smiled hesitantly, reminding himself to be polite and not too straightforward – he felt a little paranoid after her conversation. Bella confidently mirrored the smile.

"Yes, we can."

Edward started to gather rugs to a place next to the bed and Bella realized he wanted to sleep on the floor. Feeling bold, Bella stood up and stopped him. "No."

"No...?" Edward's puzzled eyes met Bella's as she hastily took the rugs from him.

"You're going to sleep on the bed," Bella reasoned determinedly. She felt bad – it was his home, she was simply a visitor and wasn't supposed to be sleeping on the bed. Edward shook his head.

"What if we shared?" Bella tried to change his mind, "it's a _huge_ bed."

Edward gazed at her in disbelief for a few moments. Sure, he'd slept next to her for an entire night, but he'd had a reason which no longer applied. "I'm not sure."

"Come on," Bella gently nudged him, showing more confidence than she felt because she still felt bad for potentially throwing him out of his own bed. Edward stood motionless for a moment before nodding oddly.

They silently went to bed and stared at the stars. Bella had grown to love the fact they didn't have a ceiling on them. It offered her the illusion of freedom.

He'd placed himself as far from her as possible, preventing any contact between them by doing so. Bella felt uncomfortable with the silent tension she (felt she) imagined. "So, how did I do today?"

"For a city-girl, you were, hm. Fairly decent?" he answered vaguely, but Bella could hear a suppressed chuckle.

"Fairly decent? Admit it, I was awesome," she laughed. "And I'm not that much of a city-girl, I grew up in Forks, remember?"

Edward shrugged. "How could I forget?" He smiled as a thought occurred to him. "And, you know – you never did tell me what you do for a living?"

* * *

**A/N: **Hi. If you should feel like reviewing, I know a person who smiles at all comments she receives. She happens to live in my body.

Major thanks to the wonderful cascsiany for betaing!


	3. Those Who Know

**Disclaimer: **The Twilight Saga is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

**A Cry for the Moon**  
by Merevaik

**Chapter 3:**** Those Who Know****  
**

Bella closed her eyes. She knew people tended to talk about their occupation as if it were something that defined them on a certain level, but she wasn't ready to share. It was important for her to have a certain amount of freedom when she was with Edward and she was not interested in making Edward prejudiced against her.

"So?"

"Could we, um, skip that one?"

"Why? It's not anything, er, illegal, is it?" Edward sighed. "Forget I asked, sorry."

"No, no, no! I'm not a– ...it's far from being illegal," she nearly laughed. "Tell you what, I'll let you know when I can finally decently ride a horse, okay?"

Edward eyed the starry sky, some of the stars twinkling and changing colours. The silence was beautiful.

"Alright," Edward answered, amused. "But that means I might never find out."

Bella's hand reached out and nudged him. "Hey!"

Edward laughed. Bella felt liberated that she didn't have to lie to him. She held onto the blanket tighter as she turned her back on him to get some sleep. She'd need it.

.-*-.-*-.

She opened her eyes to the light that had started to shine in her face, and sat up straight as she realised she was alone. She threw the blanket away and briskly jumped up, ignoring the dull pain in her head. She thought of finding an aspirin.

Bella had finished tying the string around her waist before she stood up. She was about to unclasp the wooden door before it swung straight into her face and made her fall back onto the bed. Edward immediately rushed to her side.

"I didn't mean to, I'm so sorry–" Edward started, feeling foolish for not being more careful. Bella lifted her head for him to see that her tears came from laughter, not pain.

Edward smiled an odd half-smile, which was especially slanting because of his scar. "Why are you laughing?"

"Because usually I'm the one to cause crashes, not the people around me," Bella chuckled and put her disarrayed hair into a pony tail – not that it would've made any difference. She felt Edward's eyes on her and blushed. Edward was wearing knee-length khaki-pants and a chequered shirt, obviously coming from the barn. His shirt sleeves were pulled upwards, allowing Bella to discover another dark scar, but she didn't mention it.

"I brought you breakfast – or lunch, or whatever – but the selection isn't that wide. You're going to have to deal with a sandwich again." Edward ran a hand through his already messy hair and locked eyes with Bella. "Is that alright?"

Bella rolled her eyes. "Please stop worrying about unnecessary stuff. I'm not as picky as I appear to be. But thank you."

Edward grimaced mockingly, and it occurred to Bella that Edward had loosened up after she'd found the painting from behind the cupboard. Even if that wasn't the reason, she still felt relieved that Edward could make fun of himself.

Bella took a big bite and was, once again, thankful that Alice wasn't here. She could already hear Alice's words in her ear, _'Do you know how many calories there are in there? You're gonna have to work out twice as much–'_

"Your face is blue," Edward ended the voice of Bella's internal Alice, pointing at her face.

"Pardon?"

"Right–" he placed a finger on Bella's right cheek, "–here. I think it's the residual effect of the air bag. Would you like some ice on it?"

Edward withdrew his hand. Bella touched her cheek, it didn't hurt. She wasn't going to be in front of any camera for two weeks, so it didn't matter. "No, I'm fine. What's the time? I'm sorry I slept for so long, I haven't had much of it lately."

He didn't press on the subject. "It's almost ten o'clock. I left you here on purpose. I didn't want to wake you up."

Having finished the sandwich, Bella stood up, ready to work. "So, what's the verdict for today? Grooming the horses? Building a house?"

Edward smiled, flashing his white teeth as he stood up beside Bella. "You're not too far from the truth, actually. We're going to do both."

"We are?"

"Yeah, James and Laurent are going to bring wood and roof material for us and we're going to build the footing for the roof. Until then, we're going to groom the horses and you get to ride the horse for the first time..." he hesitated, "it is your first time, right?"

"Mhmh."

Edward didn't seem surprised by her answer considering she was, after all, from Los Angeles. She'd lived there for eleven years, but didn't attend high school because she needed to have a private teacher due to filming and different schedule. In spite of arguments against going to college – most of the people she knew thought of Bella's plan as ridiculous – Bella defied their futile logic and finally received her master's degree in visual arts. She'd graduated barely two weeks ago.

She washed herself in the river and enjoyed the sun on her face as she brushed her teeth. She could get used to this peaceful silence.

Bella joined Edward as he walked to the barn. Having woken up around sunrise, Edward had been up for quite a while. Bella assured him he'd be allowed to wake her up earlier, but being Edward, he stood his ground.

"How many horses did you say you owned?" Bella inquired, smiling as she realised she'd get to see Edward riding a horse today.

"I didn't," he said, but Bella gave him a wary face. "Alright, I've got twenty five, most of them for contests. My ranch hands used to help me train them, but after they left, I've barely got the time to ride with all of them myself. It's quite a mess right now."

Observing the old barn, Bella didn't find it difficult to figure out why Edward needed to renovate it. The old creaking doors and decomposed wood made her surprised the building maintained an upright position at all. The stalls were obviously too small for the horses, but most of the horses seemed to be outside, resting under the shadows or eating the burnt grass. Bella couldn't imagine how they survived the rough wintertime.

As Edward went to gather up hay-forks and bring some brushes to scour horses' manes and tails, a stall bigger than the others caught Bella's interest. She strode over to it, careful not to get caught up in the hay with her invincible coordination skills. She leaned toward the crack in the door and peeked inside. In between hay knolls was one of the most graceful white horses Bella had ever seen, neighing and joggling her head as she impatiently chafed her hoof against the ground. The beauty piqued her interest and as she noticed that a rusty key had been left in the lock, she unlocked the door.

Bella slipped inside, managing to prevent the creaking sound from the door. The white horse lowered her head for a moment, leaving her mesmerised with the horse's streamlined neck and wide eyes. Bella stepped forward, wanting to fondle her white unbent mane.

"Aaaaahh!"

Two forceful hoofs hit Bella straight in her chest, sending her flying in the air before she landed in an enormous haystack. Bella raggedly breathed in, closing her eyes as she attempted to get some air back into her lungs.

A loud neigh chimed at the same time as the doors flew open.

Seething from fury, Edward's teeth clenched and eyes narrowed while he closed the space between them with deliberate footsteps. He motioned for Bella to move toward the opened doors.

"I-I... I'm... s-so sorry," Bella squeaked out.

"Be. Quiet." Edward snarled through gritted teeth, his voice almost inaudible.

"But I–"

"Go!" Edward yelled, stepping in between Bella and the white horse. Bella silently obeyed, tears stinging her eyes. She stumbled out of the doors and expected Edward to follow her, but he didn't. Bella stood a few feet away from the doors, motionless and fearful for the horse's next move. Edward calmly stepped back, chin lifted up and eyes on the same level as the horse's eyes.

"It's alright, everything's fine..." Edward soothed the horse, raising his hand to caress her forehead. "Take it easy, everything's alright..."

The white muscular horse shook her head and to Bella's surprise, started to eat hay as if nothing had happened. Edward exhaled as he slowly backed out of the stall, calming the horse with his voice. Bella's eyes were wide of shock and disbelief, and she felt incredibly foolish for opening the doors of that stall to begin with.

After getting out, Edward swiftly locked the doors and walked over to her. "What the hell were you thinking, Bella?"

Bella inhaled a shaky breath, trying to hide the fact that she was almost brought to tears. She lowered her gaze. "I-I'm s-sorry..."

"You weren't thinking at all! Never ever – I repeat – _never_ approach a stallion you do not know. No, scratch that. Stay away from all ungelded horses, it's stupid to go near them!" Edward seethed, looming above Bella as she avoided his gaze. Bella felt incredibly embarrassed by his disappointment. Unaccustomed to crying, Bella sniffed – even as an actor, tears had been difficult to inflict.

But apparently, not when the farmer in front of her expressed his disappointment.

A small tear escaped and Bella used the back of her hand to wipe it away. Once again, she sniffed in shame, but didn't reply. Edward sighed and neared her, abnormally boldly taking her jaw into his hand and heightening it to meet her eyes. For Bella, his face was blurry, but she could feel from the firm grip of his hand that he noticed her tears.

"Bella..." Edward's voice filled with regret.

She wiped away another tear and shook off his hand, staring down. How in the world was she supposed to know that she shouldn't go near that beautiful horse?

Edward got hold of her face again as her tears started to fall openly. Edward's eyebrows were knit together and remorse reflected his every defined lineament.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get mad at you..."

Strong comforting arms enfolded her and Bella sniffed in his shirt. She was probably going make it wet, but she didn't care. It occurred to her that this was the first time for Edward to be so forward around her.

"I'm so sorry Edward, I didn't know..."

Edward gave her one final squeeze – oddly, making her heart flip – before he uncomfortably pulled away. Edward grimaced as he stared down at her, his eyes troubled.

"Bella, are you alright? Tyler didn't use his full force, but he still hit you pretty hard."

Bella noticed that there was a large pink bruise forming just below her neck. "The horse is a 'he'?" she questioned, surprised, but at the same time, trying to distract him from her bruise.

Edward shook his head and closed his mouth, cautiously nudging her to put something cold on her bruise.

"Edward, I'm completely fine, it's just a–"

He shook his head again, admitting no denial. "You don't know Tyler, that stud is a cunningly ferocious piece of a– ...a horse." Bella attempted to make her snicker more subtle, but was unsuccessful as she let out a laugh. A merest blush appeared on Edward's face before he continued. "Tyler hurts guilefully, you might not feel the range of his strength right away, but it'll be all the more painful tomorrow when you don't put anything on it."

Chuckling over the thought that Edward didn't feel comfortable cursing in front of her, Bella rubbed her damp face and let him guide her toward the diminishing river at the bottom of the valley. Her eyes grew wide as Edward tore off his chequered shirt in such an unadorned manner it seemed he did this every day.

Oh, wait – he probably did. Bella stared at him while he saturated the shirt. Though lean, Edward was built like a man who was accustomed to hard work and labour.

He cleared his throat, and Bella noticed a lopsided smile on his face after she'd stopped ogling at his tall figure. They sat down before Edward offered his cold wet shirt to her. Bella's face contorted, but she hid it before Edward could start worrying all over again.

"Sorry..." Bella muttered, flushing slightly from abashment.

"For what?"

"For... you know, ogling at you like that."

Edward chuckled, a carefree sound that brought a smile to her face. "Nothing to feel sorry for, it's not every day I get stared at by a girl like you."

Confused, Bella adjusted his cold shirt on her chest and made sure her eyes did not linger on his chest for too long. "You mean, get stared at by the only person that has managed to step on your land in weeks."

"That, too," Edward agreed, staring at the forest behind the river. "I'm glad you decided to wreck you car here though. I've grown so used to being alone that I didn't even take the time to consider how lonely I've been. I even have full arguments with myself."

"First signs of insanity…" Bella murmured mischievously. "What do you talk about?" Bella made a low voice, an imitation of his. "'Hm… this cow needs some milking.' 'No, Bella don't, I'm a bull, how can you not see that?' 'Sorry, my bad. I thought you just mooed at me.'"

They both burst into laughter. "Touché."

Bella adjusted the shirt on her chest. "What's up with that horse? The white one, why was he? so hostile towards me?"

Edward tilted his head back too look into her face, the closeness suddenly very striking. It took time for Edward to focus his gaze on her face.

"You mean Tyler? He's definitely a "he", he's the most valuable stallion I have. That colt is the purest kind of Lipizzaner, he's only for breeding – that's the only reason he's ungelded. In fact, I'm considering to sell him to James, he's going to be here in–" he turned himself a little and straightened his arm, "six hours. James's going to have a look at him and offer his price. If he knows something about horses – and I know he does – he's not going to let the stud slip from his fingers. Tyler's too valuable for that."

"Why do I have the feeling that you're not talking English?"

Edward huffed, amused. "There's nothing wrong with my English, Bella!"

"Ungelded? Lipizzaner? Colt? I have no idea what you're talking about..."

Edward made a "duh" face, but Bella only laughed. Edward patiently explained, as if he were talking to a kid who just discovered that wood floats on water. "Ungelded is the same as uncastrated, which basically means he can still have successors. Lipizzaner is one of – if not the best, then one of the most beautiful and muscular breeding horses for sure, in my opinion. A colt is an ungelded male horse who hasn't reached the age of four yet. Anything else?"

"Why is it that male horses should be gelded? They can't breed that way."

"It's stupid to leave them ungelded unless they're for breeding. You see, males tend to think with their hormones in the presence of ladies, and horses are not an exception. An ungelded horse acts on impulse when he sees a mare – he won't care if you're standing in front of him with a sharp hay-fork, he just has to have what he wants, and a mare is the satisfaction for his needs. Ungelded horses are always harder to tame, they're restless and unpredictable as you already witnessed." Edward paused. "Tyler didn't change your mind about wanting to learn horseback riding, did he?"

"Oh no, it's just a bruise, it will heal in time."

Edward smiled and motioned for Bella to take his shirt off of her chest. She slowly slipped it away. Her light blue shirt was drenched, but the bruise wasn't as blotchy as it had been before. Bella didn't even grimace when she gently touched it.

"Aw, Edward! Thank you." Bella fell into his lap to hug him with all her force. He awkwardly stiffened for a moment, but relaxed, telling himself that he had to get used to her (enthusiastic) presence eventually.

"It's nothing. I'm glad you're fine," he hesitantly retorted, standing up and pulling her with him. Bella inhaled, gazing at the tilted shed.

"Are we going to continue?"

"We better. We haven't even started grooming and we need to put hay into the hayloft before James and Laurent arrive." Edward noticed her grimace and chuckled sarcastically. "Don't worry, the chores are never-ending. Apocalypse will come before our chores will end."

"Now I see why you don't get bored." Bella gripped his drenched shirt and placed it into his hands. "But first, put this on, please."

"Why?"

Did he really expect Bella to focus on working while he was running around half-naked?

"Just… do it." Bella started to pace toward the old shed, but Edward caught her a moment later, chuckling. It felt odd for Bella to see Edward's teasing side, she'd already gotten used to his awkward hugs and straightforward nature.

"Not before you tell me why," Edward claimed, holding the wet shirt in his left hand.

Bella tilted her head to the side, avoiding his eyes. "You... distract me."

"I distract you?" his face contorted into a confused grimace before a skewed – even cute, Bella thought – grin spread across his face. "Am I doing it right now?"

Bella mock-smiled and leaned closer to him before she pulled away and ran into the shed.

"Hey!" Bella heard him yell. "That's not fair, you didn't answer my question," Edward huffed, jogging after her.

"Life isn't fair," Bella reciprocated and sat on a haystack before he stepped into the shed.

Edward stared at her for a moment before he shook his head, a confused expression in his face. He silently put on the wet shirt. The weather was so hot that it would probably dry within minutes.

Edward handed Bella a horse brush and they silently started the routine of chores. Bella learned more about horses with every step. She couldn't believe how little she knew about them because while horses fascinated her, they scared her as well. Tyler had not helped her with that – she deliberately stayed away from his stall. She couldn't forget Edward's wrath (although they didn't bring it up again). Edward's knowledge and way of life intimidated, but also fascinated her. Just like the horses did.

The next hours passed working. Bella kept making stupid mistakes, but Edward patiently – and sometimes less patiently – explained why old bristly horse brushes were nailed to the sides of the stalls, why standing in front of a lying horse wasn't a wise idea and why one should clean and oil tack and fittings after each ride. For Edward, the details concerning horses and horseback riding had became self-explanatory years ago, so refuting Bella's false believes and clarifying the specifics of horses amused him, but also lifted his mood. Edward hadn't realised how well he understood horses.

Bella worked hard and had (so far) managed to keep her promise not to complain. Despite working out regularly, she discovered that farm work was entirely different and thoroughly exhausting.

Finished with grooming the horses, Bella wiped off the sweat from her forehead and sighed. Her clothes were summery, but she hadn't reckoned with the hot damp weather that ruled the air in this part of the world. She raised her hands to the hem of her shirt to take it off and thought of how useful it had been to wreck her car while she had bikinis under her shorts and a T-shirt. She didn't want to feel like melting ice.

"What do you think are you doing?" Edward inquired, eyes on her hands.

Bella stopped, leaving her in an awkward position with her arms crossed in front of her. "I'm hot."

"I know you're hot… but why are you taking off your clothes?" Edward placed the wire dog brush he used as a horse brush on the window sill.

"I want to feel less hot?"

"Bella…" Edward shook his head with a barely noticeable smile. "There I absolutely no way you could be less hot."

Blush found its way to her cheeks after she'd registered they might not be discussing the weather any more, but she felt confused because of Edward's previous words and couldn't help but ask, "I thought I escaped from Auschwitz?"

Edward huffed at the memory, but quickly explained, "Bella, you might look unhealthy, but that doesn't make you unattractive. I'll make sure you do eat, though."

Bella felt oddly relieved. "Thank you." She raised the hem of her shirt once again to take it off.

"Bella…" Edward warned again, shaking his head in amusement.

"What?"

"Keep your clothes on," he laughed, lifting an eyebrow.

Bella forced back a grin, but didn't obey. "Why?" She pulled her T-shirt over her head before standing in front of him with her short jeans and the upper part of her swimming clothes. She felt Edward's eyes on her, and suddenly taking off her shirt didn't seem like such a good idea. It made her incredibly self-conscious, and her extensive blush probably reached her toes. Edward just stood in the haystack, eyes never leaving her as he stood up and audibly gulped.

He hadn't realised how long it had been since he was with a woman. Bella didn't match up to his description of a woman – she seemed more like a girl to him – but she _was_ female.

"T-think we should get something to... eat?" he hesitantly tendered. Giving his courage to noticeably hint that she was hot, she noticed that he became incredibly bashful and nervous. Bella thought she might've burnt down the barn with her blush.

Edward chuckled, rubbing his neck awkwardly. "Have you always blushed like this?"

"It's one of the laws of nature."

He shook his head, a heartfelt laughter not only easing the awkwardness, but making Bella laugh as well.

Desperate to get attention off of her, Bella suggested that she could cook lunch for them while Edward would make a vacant spot next to the house to have room for the logs, lagging and roofing tiles.

Showing Bella the corner for cooking, he motioned toward the potatoes, embarrassed. "That's what I eat when I'm sick of sandwiches."

"Potatoes? That's nothing to be embarrassed about," Bella gently nudged him.

"Yeah… well. I can't help but feel that you're used to so much more than this."

Bella huffed. "Edward, you should stop imagining what I'm used to and what not. We are here, now, and I am thankful for everything you do share with me."

Bella suppressed laughter from the cheesiness of her words, but Edward's eyes only twinkled in amusement. "Like the chores?"

"Exactly." Bella smiled, thankful that she'd never had a personal cook. "Do you have cheese? Meat? Carrots? Anything to make a sauce or something?"

Edward explained where Bella could find the garden and a small chicken coop.

Much to her surprise, Bella managed to gather eggs without screaming. She hadn't been aware that chickens could be so hostile. Laughing at the image of her running out of the coop, screaming, she grabbed lettuce, tiny cucumbers and dill-weed from Edward's garden. Bella made a mental note to weed out some of the bind weeds later.

Bella cooked lunch and thought of the incredible silence of this place. As they ate, Edward made sure Bella would consume a proper amount of food. Bella laughed at his concern, but gladly ate what she was given.

"Do you mind if I go swimming before we start our lesson? I'm so dirty from doing hay…" Back in the barn, Edward wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and amusedly eyed Bella's disarrayed hair.

"Of course! Mind if I come with you?" They'd spent hours doing hay before they'd done enough for today. Bella wanted to learn horse-back riding from Edward before his friends arrived.

Edward shoved a lock of his messy hair out of his face. "Not unless you're intending to actually swim. How many times have I saved you already… ten? Twenty?"

Bella laughed, nudging him on his chest. "If it is of any consolation, I'll make sure you get a badge of merit for all those savings."

"Oh yeah? And what would that be?"

She placed a hand on her chin in mock-thought. "A week of cooking?"

Edward cocked his head back in laughter. "Oh damn, you know how to get a man, it's a deal!"

Bella didn't even bother to change clothes after their swim. The weather hadn't changed which meant the usual melting hotness ruled the place. Edward scratched his head as his eyes were on her (lack of) clothing.

"Is there a problem?" Bella asked while they paced over to Indra. Edward's white horse was waiting for them under an oak.

Edward closed his eyes for a brief moment before opening them. The slightest flush appeared on his cheeks. "Uh, no, there's nothing wrong. But to you use your wording, uh, it distracts me quite a bit when you're that uncovered." He awkwardly rubbed his neck.

"I'll go and put something on," Bella nervously answered.

"No, no, it's quite fine. I'll deal with it."

'_Deal__ with it? That sounds like seeing me in my swimming clothes is painful!'_ Bella thought.

Edward motioned toward Indra. "Let's start, we're going to make it short this time."

"Why?"

"James and Laurent are going to be here in an hour. We're going to start placing logs on the house in order to make a roof, remember?"

"Ah, right," Bella smiled, but her eyes widened.

"What's wrong? Do you have a problem with heights?"

_'How am I supposed to explain__ him I don't want to be recognised?'_

"I-I, uh, no... nothing." Bella needed a back-up plan, a good bullet-proof plan to either avoid them or change her appearance so that they wouldn't know who she really was. She might've been lucky with Edward not knowing, but she couldn't hope for such luck with everyone.

"What is it?"

"Uh, nothing, really."

Edward shrugged his shoulders before showing Bella how to approach Indra. The horse's ribs showing, she appeared to be feeble and weak in Bella's eyes.

"Now, Indra is a mare, so she'll be a little more obedient**, **but she's still an animal and doesn't like when she's done injustice**. **And though I can assure you that she's trained and well-behaved, it's still not wise to scare her in any way, understood?"

Bella nodded.

"Good, we don't want Tyler to happen again," Edward became a little irritated. "Promise you'll never enter his stable without my company again, okay?"

"I promise." Bella locked eyes with him.

"Good. Now, we should begin before the nightfall." He walked closer to the horse and gripped a stirrup, sliding his hand across the stirrup leather to see if it was unharmed. "The first thing about horse-riding is keeping your heels down," Edward turned to Bella. "Always keep your heels down."

"Okay," Bella repeated with a smile.

"No, seriously – keep your heels down in _any_ situation. It secures the right position and should the horse spook, you won't fall off. Heels. Down."

Bella repeated it in her head.

"Would you like to hop on?" he raised an eyebrow.

Bella felt a little scared. "Already?"

"It's much easier to teach you when you're on it. We can just walk and I'll be holding the reins so you have nothing to worry about. We won't do any canter today," he explained, soothing Bella's concern.

"Couldn't you show me first? I'd love to see how it works and all." Bella put her hair into a pony tail and smiled. She wanted to see him riding with the same passion she'd seen the day she arrived.

"If you insist," Edward put his hands on horse's neck and straddled the Indra before Bella could blink.

"But he – I mean _she_," Edward grimaced in a funny way when Bella mixed the sexes, "doesn't have a saddle. How can you ride without it?"

One side of Edward's mouth shifted upward and he chuckled. "Bella, anything can be done with enough experience."

"Oh," Bella blushed. "Ride away then!"

He mockingly saluted Bella, let the horse raise her front hoofs and rode away so fast the dust from the horse's hoofs made Bella cough. She sat under the oak that had a view to the whole farm and watched Edward canter, his body shifting from the horse's back just in the right rhythm for a perfect riding. His dark hair flew in the wind, eyes were on the road and feet around the horse. Bella couldn't figure out who Edward managed to stay on a horse that had no saddle.

"See?" Edward rushed toward her and stopped the horse, "not that difficult."

"Uh-oh. You make it seem as simple as making pancakes on a Sunday morning."

Edward chuckled and hopped off the horse, having no difficulty landing on his feet. "Actually, I've tried making pancakes. Twice. Both times were equally disastrous."

Bella laughed. "What happened?"

"Well, the first time I wasn't exactly following the instructions and made a half-omelet. The second time the instructions weren't following my will. I burnt the whole thing."

Edward chuckled. Smiling, Bella jumped up, easing her nerves with the image of Edward riding a horse effortlessly.

Effortless. Smooth. Facile. Graceful.

That's what it was supposed to look like.

She inhaled before nudging Edward. "Shall we start?"

Edward attached the saddle, showing Bella step-by step how it was done. She felt like an idiot. Edward cocked his head toward the horse. "Hop on."

"And how exactly should I do that?"

He placed her hands on the front of the saddle, lifted her leg up to the stirrup after making the stirrup leather a little longer. She clenched her teeth together as she attempted to lift her body higher, but ended up just jumping at the same place like a kangaroo.

'_Easy, huh?'_

"Any help?" she muttered, her face red from embarrassment. "I think the saddle knows I'm a perpetual blunderer."

Edward chuckled, eyeing her as he stepped... away?

"No, I'd much rather enjoy the view from here. Did you know you stop breathing when you jump?"

"Edward," Bella warned. Edward shook his head in amusement before hesitantly placing his hands on her waist and effortlessly raising her on the horse. Bella shivered from his cold touch.

"Bella, heels down," Edward reminded her, gripping the reins and making the horse move by doing it.

Bella suddenly noticed how high she was. Indra didn't look as tall from the ground. Bella distracted herself by staring at Edward's tousled hair; it diverted her attention until they started moving downhill.

"Edward? What am I supposed to hold on to?"

"Cantle or pommel, whatever works for you," he uttered casually, not as uptight about Bella's clumsy self on a horse as she was.

"And... in English?"

He suppressed a laugh. "Sorry, I always forget. Maybe the front of the saddle is the best for you," he made the horse turn and they headed toward an empty field. Bella felt incredibly vulnerable on a horse, Indra's every move seemed to intensify Bella's.

"I'm going to give the reins to you now."

"What? Oh, no. I don't think that's a good idea. That's next week's material!"

"Bella, nothing's going to happen to you, trust me," Bella's resistance ceased when she locked eyes with him. Edward showed her how to properly hold the reins, making sure her hands wouldn't be farther apart than the width of the horse's neck.

"If I fall, you have no choice but to catch me because I somehow doubt the ambulance would get here in time," Bella said nervously, gripping the reins as if her life depended on it.

"Bella, you're under my responsibility right now, of course I'd catch you," he casually replied. Bella followed his every instruction, or at least attempted to do so. She thought of what she was supposed to do with her body so much that the wires in her brain were surely keeling over.

_'Heels down... head and shoulders up... sit straight, but not stiffly... heels down... lean slightly back... heels down...'_

"Bella," Edward's voice woke her from the replay that was going on in her head. "You try too hard, you look like you're about to give birth to a monstrous baby. Just... be. Let the horse guide you, she knows what she's doing."

'_Just... _be_? Easy for him to say.'_

"She might know what she's doing, but I don't. I just feel so insecure and much clumsier on a horse. And that's not even possible!"

Edward patted Indra on her neck. "One more lap around the field and then we're done, okay?"

Bella nodded. She loved the thought of riding a horse, but she couldn't help but be disappointed in herself and her lack of success.

"Bella? Don't you like it?" Edward frowned, walking by her side as they headed for the last lap around the field. He didn't know why it bothered him, but much to his surprise, it did.

"Oh, no, I love it! I'm just disappointed in my lack of grace and success."

Edward shook his head in denial. "Bella, you're doing well, you can't expect to be an expert in an hour when it's the first time ever for you to ride a horse. Just be patient. Maybe we should ride together on the same horse so you could see how it works and all," he pondered aloud, rubbing his neck before he lowered his eyes.

Bella smiled at his attempt to soothe her. "I'd love that."

"You would?" His eyes snapped into Bella's.

"Of course! I'm already looking forward to it."

Edward smiled and caressed Indra's forehead for a moment. They finished walking with the horse and were under the oak ten minutes later. Bella had an internal dilemma – should she jump off of Indra and possibly injure herself or try to slide off of her?

Edward ended her dilemma by opening his arms for her.

Bella leaned towards him, close enough for Edward to take her tiny waist into his hands and lift her from the horse. She was too light and it wasn't a problem for Edward to lift her, but neither of them was prepared for her foot to get stuck in the stirrup.

Edward lost balance.

They landed in the grass, Bella's body just above Edward's. Edward held his arms around her body so he would get the worst of the impact. He managed to hold his head away from the ground.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" Bella implored, raising her hand to shove a lock of Edward's hair out of the way to look into his eyes. "I'm so sorry, are you oka–"

"I am fine, Bella," Edward muttered, surprised that his voice didn't waver. Bella stared at his eyes and lowered her head a little. Her breath tickled his skin and his eyes opened wider at the possibility of their proximity. Bella leaned closer, her eyes on Edward's mouth.

Edward abruptly turned his head and started moving to silently plead her to move. The situation felt awkward, Edward was positive that Bella lost herself in the moment, and Bella was puzzled by his behaviour. He wiped his clothes from the dust before carefully lifting his head to look into Bella eyes. He shrugged off the hurt he saw as wishful thinking.

"Well, well, well… look who's finally gettin' some action!" James laughed at the two of them, his hands deep in his pockets. Bella stiffened, stepped behind Edward and covered her face with her long hair.

"We, uh, we fell," Edward attempted to explain, but he didn't doubt they'd seen their closeness. Victoria and Laurent rounded the corner and were soon standing next to James.

"Well? Aren't you going to introduce us?" James questioned, narrowing his eyes at Bella. Knowing James, Edward felt uncomfortable, but it would've been rude not to introduce them. Edward and James had attended high school together. For all of his life, James had lived in the small town of Jackson, and his female conquers were notorious around Teton County. In James' defence, he'd always been nothing but dismissively nice to Edward. His straightforward nature could only be described as extreme, his hand barely ever left the gun on his waist, light hair always in a bun and 'well' left his mouth almost as much as cursing.

Glancing at his waist, Edward felt relieved that James had left his gun at home.

Edward stepped away from Bella, but noticed how shy she suddenly appeared. Her eyes diverted at everywhere but them.

"James, this is Bella – she's on vacation and she'll be here for a few weeks," Edward explained, feeling a vague urge to protect the unknown girl. He suppressed a growl. "And Bella, this is James. He supplies me with building materials."

Bella's cheek was still a little swollen and blue. She kept fidgeting with her hands; Edward hadn't seen her so nervous before. "Nice to meet you, James," she worded out nicely. It was obvious his ogling made her feel uncomfortable.

James smirked. "I'm sorry, but have we met before? You look kinda familiar."

"Yeah, I get that a lot. Apparently I look like someone famous or something," Bella smiled nervously, avoiding James's scrutinizing gaze.

"Well, you're probably right. I'm sure I would've remembered _you_," James kissed Bella's hand while Edward clenched his teeth. Bella quivered and Edward could see that she tried to wipe away the feel of James's lips on her hand. Edward's mood lifted tremendously.

Edward introduced Laurent and Victoria to her. It was a well-known fact Victoria had feelings for James, but he was oblivious to her longing and unaware of her loving attention.

"And this…" Edward motioned toward Victoria, "is Victoria. She's working as a building constructor."

Bella shook her hand and shifted herself under their stares.

"Bella – that's short for Isabella, right?" Victoria asked, eyes weirdly focused on a little birth mark on Bella's lower abdomen. Edward hadn't noticed it before.

"Uh, yes?" she halted and gulped. "It is."

Bella didn't find it difficult to unravel the look in Victoria's eyes.

She knew.

"You're Isabella, the actress, and Edward doesn't know that?" she muttered almost inaudibly, making Bella freeze. Bella mildly shook her head. Victoria smiled reassuringly and leaned toward her. "Don't worry, my lips are sealed."

Bella sighed, relieved. It wouldn't take long for James and Laurent to figure it out, but if Bella spent as little time with them as possible, she hoped to survive the evening. She wasn't foolish enough to trust Victoria, but if she could do her a favour, she believed Victoria would keep her word for the evening.

They spent hours taking building materials off of the truck. The look in James's eyes when he thoughtfully eyed Bella arose goose-bumps on her body, but she tried her best to ignore him. Having drunk beer, his comments soon went out-of-line and made Bella so uncomfortable she wanted to either kick him or run away from him.

_'Edward's friend__,' _she kept repeating in her head. _'If he were Edward's friend, he can't be much of a threat, can he?'_

The day grew longer and when they finally finished placing logs on the roof, the sun had already set. Bella avoided James as much as she could without being blatantly obvious, and fortunately, she hadn't had any serious incidents with him.

They finished the footing for the roof and Bella smiled as she saw Edward's joy when he was looking at his future home. 'Home.' The word was uncommon and strange for Bella, she'd been moving around like crazy when her acting career picked up. She did have a place to go, but the massive building she owned wasn't much of a home for her.

"Shall we continue tomorrow?" Edward smiled at his friends. "Thanks for today."

"You're welcome," Laurent chuckled. "Don't forget that you pay us, so there's really no reason to thank us for doing our job."

"Still, I'm grateful." Edward helped them pack up their stuff.

Bella retreated to put away the saddle they'd been using earlier, and noticed that the stirrup leather was riven from the middle. She placed the saddle next to another one and sighed as she leaned on the wall of the barn. She remembered Edward's proximity from earlier and touched her lips in the darkness.

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling yourself up already. I can help you with that," James appeared by her side. Bella jumped, startled. Her breathing hitched after his alcohol induced smell spread around her.

"What do you want?" Bella asked, hoping that she sounded as intimidating as she intended to.

James tilted his head to the side and stepped closer to Bella. She immediately stepped back, but her back hit the wall and she was trapped.

"You, _Isabella_," he sneered and tightly grabbed her shoulder. "I've always thought you looked good on screen... that's nothing compared to how you look in reality!"

Bella felt sick. She turned her head away from his, struggling to get out of his grip. He only tightened it, making her scuffle.

"Feisty, aren't we? I love them feisty..."

Desperate to do something, Bella spat on his face. It bought her time to retreat and run, but she failed to consider with his fury. James grabbed her wrist and threw her against a door. The already weak door made a loud thump as it fell off its hinges. Bella hoped Edward could hear the sound.

James made a mock pout. "You have no where to run... _Isabella_," he grabbed her wrists into his hand and stepped nearer to her face. His warm alcohol-induced breath disgusted her. Bella's body started to tremble uncontrollably as she felt how much stronger he was. James closened the space between them, and Bella grimaced as she scuffled and kept turning away her head.

Suddenly the weight disappeared.

Bella fell back and started to search the darkness with her eyes, frantically seeking for what caused James to back away from her. She slumped in the haystack, weak sobs coming over her, but through her blurry vision, Bella noticed that another man stood a few feet from her.

Edward.

He held on to James's collar, his face murderous under the moonlight. Bella thought he'd been mad before, but that held nothing against the rapid ire he was embodying now.

Nothing.

His one hand was holding on to James's collar while the other hit him straight the eye, James's whole body cowered under the hit. Edward smacked him in the chest, making James retreat and hold on to his face.

"Calm down, dude, we can share!" James snarled, trying to calm Edward down.

That only infuriated Edward. "_Share?_" his threatening voice filled the barn as he hit him again with full force. "Get the fuck off of my land!"

James fumbled and fell a few times under Edward's menacing eyes before he was out of our sight. Edward searched the room in silence before he spotted Bella's sobbing form.

"Bella? Honey, are you all right?" Edward sat next to Bella and enfolded her in a hug. He rubbed her arm and rocked her body as Bella tried to gather herself together.

"I'm right here. Shh," Edward soothed Bella, running his hands through her hair and kissing her forehead. "He's gone, honey, everything's alright now..."

* * *

**A/N:** Special thanks to the lovely cascsiany for betaing!


	4. Plateau of Trust

**Disclaimer: **The Twilight Saga is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

**A Cry for the Moon**  
by Merevaik

**Chapter 4: Plateau of Trust  
**

Despite Bella's resistance, Edward now slept on an old mattress in the other room, his even breathing a proof of his deep slumber. The stars had faded in the sky, sunrise neared and birds' singing echoed in the valley. According to the cellular Edward had left Bella, it was 04:23. Bella stretched her back, yawned and sighed, clutching the blankets closer to her body.

She couldn't sleep.

Oddly enough, Bella was thinking of her parents. She didn't do it often, and not even because it hurt so much, but because her mother lost her respect years ago and she had doubts about her father's intentions for getting back in touch with her. Charles, or Charlie as his wealthy friends called him, was a successful manager and raised her… in theory. The 'wow' effect of being her father's daughter had confused her until she realised the people Bella met assumed she was a (big) part of Charles' life. In reality, her father was a living proof of breaching of promises, he was a good person, he simply failed to be there when she needed him.

Bella and her brother grew up with an impossible amount of nannies, learning about their flings with her father and his petty reasons for firing them, whether the reasons were food-related, sleep-related or school-related. Her interpretations were more creative, usually between 'bad in bed,' 'even worse in bed' and 'horrible in bed.'

For as long as Bella remembered her mother, she'd always had problems with alcohol. Renee easily found an excuse for drinking a martini, a tequila or brandy. Any alcoholic beverage was a go. At one point, her father offered an ultimatum to Renee, she had to leave or admit her problem and stop refusing help.

She left without a word.

The first wage Bella earned – at the fragile age of nine – she searched for her mother to offer her help. Her mother had asked for the money and being the blue-eyed, naïve girl she'd been, Bella gave her everything without a question. In her ideal world, her mother would _want_ to climb out of the circle she was trapped in, but her ideals crumbled the next time she met her mother, a homeless woman in the streets of Seattle.

Bella vowed to her little brother to never take a merest sip of alcohol in her life. In return, little Michael promised to never treat women the way their father did. Three years younger than Bella, Mike became one of her best friends – Bella didn't raise him, they raised each other. As a twist of fate, he felt infatuated by men (an amusing fact that Bella didn't fail to tease him about) and Bella had a part in Carlsberg advertisement. She didn't mention the vow to her little brother (only Alice was aware of it), and she was determined not to break it.

Deep in thought, Bella almost failed to notice that something cold and wet landed on her forehead. She raised her eyes, examining the sky.

It was clear blue.

Placing her finger on the viscose substance, she let out a laugh. Bird shit. Muffling her laughter with one hand, she crawled out of bed and got dressed in one of Rosalie's long T-shirts. She grabbed her shorts and Edward's towel, tapping her feet as quietly as possible.

She slid her feet along the wet grass, enjoying the tingling feeling. First sunbeams made her squint her eyes, but she happily stripped off and touched the water with her toes. It was… cold. Incredibly cold.

Bella inhaled a breath. She stepped forward, got used to the water and paused every minute to make the next dry part of her wet. Finally, she lowered her chin to the river, desperately moving her limbs to forget about the coldness. She wasn't a hopeless swimmer and felt grateful for the acting part which had required taking swimming lessons, but she didn't feel comfortable holding her breath for too long. Being entirely underwater felt disarming.

After washing her face, she started to get used to the temperature. Her thoughts led her back to her brother, now a eighteen year old handsome man. Mike and his boyfriend Tyler Crowley had intended to start designing clothes and Bella held no doubt that their creation would get phenomenal response. Mike had just finished high school and got into the American Intercontinental University, about to study Fashion Design while Tyler was a second year undergraduate. They fit like gloves.

After spending three days in this valley, Bella knew she felt more at home than anywhere else she remembered. But it might've been connected to Edward's presence. Bella didn't have to pretend to be with him, she could easily be herself, whoever that might be. Edward had comforted her yesterday, which in retrospective, she felt embarrassed about. His actions were noble and he clearly cared about her, but Edward would have probably done the same this if she were someone else.

But if that were so, why 'honey'? People didn't generally use it unless they deeply cared about the person. In Bella's world, however, it became an over-used word, almost a cliché'd nickname an acquaintance could use when they couldn't remember your name. 'Honey' always worked.

'_But he doesn't belong to my world,'_ Bella reminded herself. _'He doesn't seem the type to use meaningless nicknames deliberately. In his world, honey is not a twist of word, it has a meaning.'_

Having thought that, Bella let out a laugh, but she stopped abruptly after she'd heard the amplifying echo of her laughter. She felt like one of the obsessed girls who tore one action out of the context and interpreted it in million ways to see which one suited best for her. Bella didn't want to over-think. If Edward started to like her, she would hold on to a chance, if he didn't, she'd gain a precious friend from the world of sanity.

It was the seventh of July and Bella had eleven days left with Edward. It suddenly seemed so few.

The seventh of July? Bella sank underwater, but inhaled and coughed as she managed to leap up. It became clear why she'd started to think of her family today – it was Mike's nineteenth birthday. But she hadn't memorised his new number. She frowned, slowly drifting back downriver. A moment later, she quit scowling and grinned to herself. Alice and Mike loved to shop together, she definitely owned Mike's new number.

Bella stumbled a little on the rocks before starting to stand up.

"You might want to know I'm here."

Bella immediately fell underwater. She struggled to reach her head above it, spluttered water and sneezed three times in a row before her eyes landed on the source of the deep voice. She became painfully aware of her nude body and made sure none of it was seen.

Edward stood about ten feet from Bella in nothing but his old jeans, holding out his cellular. "Are you okay?"

"I-I'm naked."

"I know," he laughed. "That's not what I asked."

Bella's face paled. "How much did you see?"

"Don't worry, I didn't see anything. All your clothes are here and I saw your bare shoulders."

Bella crossed her arms in front of her in insurance.

"You might want to come out because there's someone on the phone," Edward said, his smile growing wider. It had taken him a few days to feel natural around his new companion, but now it seemed to Bella he felt _too_ comfortable.

"Would you turn around?" Bella asked, brushing her wet hair out of her face.

"Why?"

She blinked, not sure if to feel embarrassed or rejoiced. "Because you'll be responsible for my hypothermia if you don't."

"You are no fun," Edward grinned, but turned around.

"Thank you. Now, please cover your eyes too."

"But I can't see you anyway."

Bella smiled. "Just do it. Please?"

Edward covered his face with his hand, bringing his cellular closer to his ear. "Alice, was it? Please wait a little, Bella is feeling silly."

Bella would've heard Alice's amused reply if she wouldn't have been so busy running out of water and splattering water everywhere. She tapped closer to the towel and immediately wrapped it around her body. Sighing, she stepped in front of Edward.

"Thank you. You can open your… your eyes are opened!"

Edward handed the phone to Bella, winking. "You really thought I'd close my eyes?"

Bella motioned toward her throat, as if cutting it. Edward laughed. Bella took a deep breath before greeting Alice. "Hi, mom."

"Isabella Marie Swan, you _promised_ to Mike you'd save yourself for marriage!" Alice yelled, only semi-amused. "I'm going to kill that son of a bitch!"

Bella's whole body flushed as a beetroot colour covered her skin. She turned about only to see Edward's amused smile. Not wanting to over-hear their conversation, or rather – desiring it, but not wanting to be impolite, he retreated.

"Alice!" Bella hissed. "What are you talking about?"

"That Edward dude and your conversation! He politely introduced himself, which is always a plus, but Bella! I really thought this was important to you."

"Alice, would you calm down? Nothing happened."

"Seriously? So he didn't pop your cherry?"

Bella wanted a black hole to swallow her. "No."

"Oh."

After making sure that Edward had walked out of sight, Bella grabbed her clothes and went by the riverbank, stopping as she reached the forest. The sound of rustling papers came from the phone as Bella started to dry herself with one hand.

"Ali?"

"Hm?"

"Next time, would you check your facts before jumping to the conclusion?"

"I'm sorry. I will."

"Thank you."

A moment of silence was soon followed by Alice's voice, "I heard you were in Wyoming. Interesting."

Bella growled silently as she zipped up the shorts. "Please keep that information for yourself. Please?"

"Who do you think I am – Mike?" Alice laughed.

"Funny," Bella smiled. "But I'm serious. I'll strangle you after doing intolerably ugly things to your hair if anyone finds out."

Bella could almost feel her eye-roll. "I'm so scared. But don't worry, I am silent as the grave. And speaking of Mike, do you remember what day it is?"

"I do!" Bella chuckled. "Of course I do. I was just thinking earlier, could you give me his phone-number?"

"Sure, I'll text it to you."

"Thank you." Bella managed to draw the T-shirt over her head using only one hand. "By the way, why are you up? It must be around five over there."

"I missed my best friend, of course!" she snickered before Bella could snort. "And I'm throwing a surprise party for Mike. I'll make it awesome."

Bella laughed. "Excellent. I'll go and think of something to eat. I love you!"

"Love you too."

Throwing the towel over her shoulder, Bella strolled back to the house, received Mike's number before memorising it and set the towel on the door for drying. Avoiding chicken as much as she could, she counted eight eggs and placed them on her wrapped T-shirt before picking dill-weed and herbs. She found an occupied Edward from the dark granary, his feet on a ladder and face unseen.

"Edward? What're you doing?"

"I'm–" he fell silent as he struggled to reach something. The lamp light up. "Fixing the wires."

"I didn't know they were broken."

Edward climbed down the ladder and sat on it, interlacing his fingers. "Neither did I, but James..." He paused to rub his neck and averted his eyes. "Anyway, I fixed them. I make a new door in the evening." Edward stretched one arm in front of him and twiddled his palm, grimacing.

Bella stepped closer to him. "What's wrong?"

"Ah, it's nothing," he claimed, but Bella quirked an eyebrow. Edward gave in, revolving his wrist and exhaling, "It's just my wrist. I thought it had healed, but I guess I hurt it yesterday when I hit James," he stopped, mock-grimaced and stood up, "but it's probably nothing. It'll heal in time."

Bella handed over his cellular phone and placed the eggs on a bowl before she sat on a haystack next to Edward, demanding to see his hand, "Show me."

Edward huffed, amused, "Don't tell me you're a doctor."

She laughed, but gently gripped his arm and pulled him down next to her. "I wish. I just have experience with this kind of stuff."

"You're a boxer?" Edward teased.

Bella rolled her eyes, placing his arm on her lap. "Because my multiple, extremely developed arm muscles obviously signify that."

"True," he replied, thoughtfully eyeing the way Bella examined his swollen hand. It was heavily bruised on his knuckles, but that worried him less than the reddish area around his wrist that caused him pain. Bella cautiously turned it in different ways, appearing more expert to Edward than she felt.

"Is your pain numb or sharp? Does it affect your fingers? Do you feel pain in your forearm?"

He stared at her for a moment before starting to withdraw his hand. "Bella, this is ridiculous. It's not that bad."

Bella smiled vaguely, reminding herself to be patient as she, once again, pulled his rough hand closer to her. "This'll only take a sec. Now, answer me."

Edward hesitated, "You want me to describe pain?" Bella nodded before he continued. "It's dull, I guess. Sometimes burning? I don't know. My fingers feel numb occasionally. It's been painful for a few weeks now." He couldn't think of anything to add, so he fell silent.

Bella absent-mindedly massaged the back of his hand. "Does it wake you up sometimes?"

Edward cocked his head back to lock eyes with her. "How'd you know?"

She scratched her forehead, sighing, "I'm not a doctor, so you should see one. But I think you might have carpal tunnel syndrome."

Edward drew a blank.

"Is this supposed to get a dramatic reaction from me? I have no idea what you just said."

Bella quickly explained, "It's got something nasty to do with your wrist, I don't know the specifics. But it's not a nice syndrome to have. If it's temporary, it'll pass, but if not... it'll only get worse. Your hand muscles might atrophy and they won't do it without pain. You should definitely see a doctor."

"How do you know all of this?" he asked, carefully pulling away his hand. He refused to believe that a little bit of pain in his wrist was going to make his hand muscles useless. The thought sounded incredibly ridiculous.

"My brother had it," she simply answered. "But don't underestimate it, really. I don't doubt that you can tolerate pain, but a farmer needs both hands."

Edward scowled, interlacing his fingers together again as he cowered forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "You have a brother? I didn't know that."

Bella narrowed her eyes at his obvious attempt to parry the conversation, but Edward seemed sincerely surprised, so her lips formed an amused smile. "Yeah. We never talk about our families, do we? Today is Mike's birthday. I can't believe he's already turning nineteen. But he's a heart-breaker."

"I bet," Edward smiled, glad that Bella forgot all about his wrist.

"No – I mean, he's literally a heart-breaker. He's gay. He worships women and they adore him, hoping they have a chance until they discover he has an equally handsome boyfriend."

Edward laughed out loud. "If my brother were gay, he'd probably do the same."

Bella's stomach growled before she joined in with his laughter and her eyes landed on the side of the bowl. Edward eyed her. "Do you miss him?"

"I do," Bella replied without hesitation. "Pathetic, isn't it?"

"Not really," Edward pondered aloud. "If living alone has taught me anything, it's the value of a companion."

She smiled up to him. "It's a little funny when you think of it – I'm always in the middle of people and yet I feel lonely, you're the only human within fifteen mile radius and yet you've learned to accept it."

"Don't idealise my life, Bella, my acceptance was mandatory, not optional," Edward said more vehemently than he'd intended. Once again, his rough bluntness reminded him how little he socialised and how little polite small-talk meant to him. He rushed to apologise, but Bella cut him off. "I'm–"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

They eyed each other before both let out a laugh. Bella's stomach growled. "Living in a farm seems to be good for my appetite."

"I'm glad. Maybe we manage to grow some meat on your bones before you leave," Edward chuckled, but felt faintly lonely at the thought. It didn't even matter how much time they physically spent together, just knowing that someone was there became enough. Edward stood up, offering Bella a helping hand, but she refused, motioning at his wrist. He shook his head, barely managing not to roll his eyes. "Bella, I'm not disabled."

Bella stood up and wiped off the dust on her bottom. "Not yet."

"Yes, 'cause a painful wrist means that I'll lose both of my hands before I know it," Edward said sardonically, amused. "It's just a little pain." His eyes lingered on Bella's back before he gathered the remains of the broken door to take it apart. Bella started to cook breakfast.

"I hope you're right," she muttered, glancing at the almost angry way Edward unscrewed screws, crouching on one knee, his half-long hair falling on his forehead as he occasionally rubbed his wrist. Having realised that he was being watched, he stopped to eye her.

"Is there a problem?"

Taken by surprise, Bella attempted a smile as she flushed. "No, you just look kind of fascinating."

Edward cocked his head back in laughter. "Only you, Bella, could think that." He offered her a sincere smile – making her blush even more – before returning to the work in his hands, shaking his head and murmuring under his breath. Attempting to get rid of the blush in her cheeks, Bella continued to cleave the eggs in two; completely unaware of the occasional affectionate glances she was given.

The day passed quickly. Bella kept making mistakes, but once Edward had explained that horses' hooves grew just like human nails, how to properly use hoof shears and why trimming was necessary, she started to get the hang of it. Bella felt scared because of what happened to Tyler yesterday, but she eventually cast it aside and even laughed as she realised she was about to use a tooth brush to scrub the sides of the hooves. The action didn't seem that funny to Edward, he was simply amused by her amusement.

Bella held the rope as Edward trained Angela and gave Laurent a call to make sure James wouldn't be insolent enough to step on his land. Bella felt guilty as he explained the reason to her.

"I'm sorry," she apologised, clutching the rope.

Edward continued to canter with the horse, yelling, "For what? For James being a p– ...pain in the ass or for him not coming here?"

Bella chuckled, revolving to face Edward. "The first one, obviously. But if I wasn't here, you wouldn't have lost a pair of worker hands."

Edward slowed down, pacing as he neared Bella and jumped off of Angela. "Bella, it's not like I thought he was an innocent angel before he attacked you. I know him; I should've just kept a closer eye on you." He averted his eyes as he awkwardly rubbed his neck.

Bella smiled, flushing. "I don't think I've thanked you yet, so... thank you for rescuing me yesterday. I don't know what I would've done without you."

"Me neither," he pondered, grimacing at the thought. "But it's safe to say he shouldn't bother you any more."

Bella spontaneously hugged him, and Edward returned it, not as uncomfortable as he'd been the first few times when Bella had caught him off guard. He smiled into her hair before pulling back.

"Could I use your phone again?" she timidly asked. "I just need to prove to Mike that I'm capable of memorising his birthday."

Edward chuckled and pulled it out of his pocket. "Just send me the bill when you're back in LA. My credit limit isn't boundless."

"No problem," she answered, briefly pecking him on the cheek, leaving him surprised as she paced to the riverbank. She dialled the number and waited for nearly a minute before the sound of cheering filled her ear.

"Who's this?" her brother yelled.

"Hey, little brother," Bella laughed. "Got a minute?"

Bella heard a closing door before she could hear him clearly. "Beautiful! It's you, you remembered!"

"I did," she replied. "Happy birthday! Do you feel older? Did Alice throw a fabulous surprise party?"

Michael laughed, and Bella splattered her feet in the water as she listened to her little brother's voice, not actually caring if he talked about his claustrophobic tendencies, Tyler or the new stylish watch he'd bought. She smiled to herself, happy to hear his voice. "...where are you, anyway? So many people have been asking after you. And what did I hear about a cute farmer Edmund?"

"His name's Edward," she corrected. "And you mean Alice didn't tell you where I am? I'm impressed."

"Alice _knows_? Wait, I gotta find her..."

Bella chuckled. "Oh, no you don't. I'll be back in LA in no time."

"Hm," Michael pondered, "you still didn't answer my second question. Do you like him? Would_ I_ like him? Because that's crucial."

She let out a laugh. "Edward's pretty charming in his awkward way," she paused, "and I think I do like him." Bella unwillingly flushed. "You'd love him."

"That's excellent! I can't wait to meet him."

Bella's blush deepened. "Calm down, I've known him for only three days, nothing's happened."

"What's the problem? Don't tell me he doesn't want you, 'cause that's crap. I know people who'd literally cut off their limbs to be with you, and I ain't kidding."

Bella ignored his last words, knowing that as her brother, he was bound to think that. "But assuming that he does start to like me–" Michael huffed at her words. "What next? Our worlds are so different, there's no way we could be together."

"Beautiful, you think too much. When you can't wrap your head around your love for each other, everything will fall into place. Trust me."

Bella laughed. "How have I not realised how much of a romantic you are?"

"You've been too busy dodging away from potential marriage proposals," he said, amused, "by the way, Alice wanted to tell you she got you a part in a musical. Big names. All you need to do is sign the contract."

Bella's face paled. "But I cannot sing! She told me she'd give me time..."

"Don't shoot the messenger." Michael chuckled. "You'll manage just fine."

"Everyone keeps telling me that, yet no-one has ever heard me sing. Don't you think you're being a little presumptuous?"

"Hm? No," he laughed. "Not really."

"Funny," she replied. She wrapped up their conversation, promising to let him know when she returned to LA and how things were progressing with Edward. Back in the granary, she found Edward from the corner, nailing the logs. He cocked his head back as he heard Bella enter.

"Are you alright? You look a little flushed."

"I'm okay," she smiled, eyeing his back as she placed the cellular on the tiny table. Edward put the nails on the logs before standing up in front of her.

"I was thinking, since I'm not going to sell Tyler to James, Emmett used to have a friend who wanted that Lipizzaner. We might have to go and pay my brother a visit in a few days, you up for it?"

Bella thought she could feel blood rushing away from her cheeks as she paled and gulped. "Sure, why not?"

"Great!" He smiled. "I'll call him tomorrow," he said, stepping closer to her and grasping both of her shoulders for a moment. "There's also a place I'd love to show you, but the journey will take more time if we go there. Would you mind?"

Not used to seeing Edward as bold as he was being now, Bella smiled. "No, not at all."

Edward flushed as he realised his straightforwardness, but gave her a lopsided grin before forcing himself to let her go and return to his work. Bella stared at his back for a minute, but soon crouched down to pile potatoes for dinner.

.-*-.-*-.

Bella started to get used to the routine, the grooming, living in such a secluded place and having countless of chores. She messed up more than Edward would've preferred, but she made it even with her incredible enthusiasm. In her defence, she kept her promise not to complain and cooked for the both of them.

Edward, on the other hand, had finally stopped feeling lonely. He'd been right and they were going to visit his brother on the other side of the mountain, a week after Bella had appeared in his life. They got familiar with each others' little quirks and preferences, started to feel more comfortable around each other and learned what to expect. Edward convinced himself not to care about their incredibly different backgrounds as he understood his increasing affection toward the tiny girl from LA – he'd felt ridiculously relieved when he found out that Bella was twenty one years old, not eighteen as he'd assumed.

He felt uncertain as to how Bella perceived him because he'd never been in a relationship and constantly stumbled over the little actions that might've meant something more if he'd only known how to read her. His lack of experience with girls deeply unnerved him. Edward wasn't a virgin and had dated a few girls, but time had passed since then. He didn't believe in love, but for the first time, he found himself wondering if he could or should.

Edward wasn't even sure if one could be in love after knowing the person for merely a week. He simply thought that if he'd ever done drugs, this is as high as he'd get. He felt a little obsessed and more than a little protective, going as far as making sure that Laurent wouldn't turn out to be a maniac or searching for signs that he liked her. As a relief, he didn't find any.

Naturally, his face made him paranoid – what if Bella simply felt bad for him? His worst fear revealed itself in pity. Nothing could've made him more suspicious as being pitied by anyone, especially by her. That's why he felt it became crucial that he discovered if Bella felt something toward him before acting on his feelings. She'd always been so enthusiastic and easy-going that Edward couldn't be sure if she was this open to everyone. She'd never mentioned a significant other and he didn't want to pry, but it worried him more than he admitted. Was he too bold assuming that she had no-one back in the city? The thought seemed ridiculous as her appearance and nature could easily attract more than enough attention.

Edward adjusted himself on top of the roof, grimaced and eyed the beautiful girl as she drifted on water. Over the past few days, he'd learned to filter what came out of his mouth because of his fear that he'd call her honey again. He was still straightforward as ever, but tried to avoid making her think that he expected something – which, honestly, he did. He hoped she was too much in shock after what happened to James to register his thoughtless words, but decided not to find out.

Bella was wrapped up in the silence that surrounded her when her ears were underwater. She gave occasional glances to the riverbank to make sure she wouldn't drift away from his farm, and discovered that Edward's eyes were on her. She waved at him and received an adorable grin before she shut her eyes and continued to drift. She felt exceedingly happy. The past week had been one of the best in her life and by now, she was positive Edward's presence had everything to do with it. She didn't want to leave.

But what made her less than elated was Edward's continuing indifference. Bella felt like she'd given him every possible green light, every hint that she was interested, but he still did nothing. Bella could've just caught him off guard and straight out kissed him, but she felt guilty about that thought, so she neglected it, and remembered that Edward was the one to turn away when Bella had fallen from Indra. He deserved to be given a choice.

She hoped Edward hadn't noticed her tendency to fumble every time he mentioned going to his brother's farm. The rash on her cheek had healed – having discovered that Edward didn't keep mirrors around, she learned to watch her reflection on the river – and nothing stopped her from being recognised. After a bit of searching, she'd found a pair of ridiculously large sunglasses and a few scarves, but her distinctive heart-shaped jaw-line wouldn't fool anyone. She could only hope that they wouldn't accuse Bella for keeping this from Edward, she already blamed herself, but couldn't deny that being taken for who she was felt liberating.

Bella stepped out of the water and got dressed. Edward leaned on the tree as Bella approached, but she stopped as soon as she realised the horse next to him was Tyler. Bella started to retreat. "No, no, no. Edward, don't tell me we're going with... him?"

Edward straightened his back, caressing Tyler's forehead as he offered her an assuring smile. "Lipizzaner, remember? He's the only one."

Bella stopped backing away, but didn't approach Edward as her eyes didn't leave Tyler's. "I, uh, we're going to _ride_ with him? Please tell me this is a joke."

Edward shook his head.

"We're both about to ride him? Can't I ride with Angela?" Bella asked, stunned. She could finally ride independently (without rotating in one place like four days ago), but Edward knew Bella didn't trust herself on a horse, especially on Angela, who was still young and more unpredictable. He shook his head.

"Indra?" she tried again, but Edward repeated his action, apologetic but unwavering.

"Isn't he a breeding horse or something? Won't it hurt him to hold both of our weighs? He's pretty valuable, isn't he?"

Edward huffed, amused by her desperate attempts to get out of riding with Tyler. "Emmett won't be pleased, but I trained Tyler every day before you arrived, he's a safe horse once he's guided by a firm hand."

Bella brought a hand to her mouth to bite her fingernail. "Can't I jog next to you?"

"For nearly twenty miles? Good luck," he chuckled.

Bella hesitated, but as Edward tilted toward Tyler and motioned at the reins securely in his hands, she approached them. She stepped as close to Edward as she could without actually hugging him, amusing Edward, who casually lifted her on Tyler's back.

"I sincerely hope you know what you're doing," Bella whispered, scared of the horse's next move. Edward told her to move backward so he could sit in front of Bella, and she falteringly followed his instructions, certain that the horse would smell her fear and spook. "If I die, please tell my brother I didn't mean to ruin his Hugo Boss tuxedo on Christmas five years ago."

Edward placed his foot on the stirrup, holding the front of the saddle as he lifted himself on the horse. "If we die, Bella, then I'll be in heaven with you and your brother has to live eighty years without you."

"That is kind of sad," Bella said absent-mindedly, inhaling as Tyler vehemently shook his head.

"You think?" Edward sincerely wondered. "I think I'd be rather content having you all for myself." He scooted as far up the saddle as he could, keeping his legs on stirrups as he grasped the reins. "Come closer, I don't want you to fall off. And hold on."

Bella glided forward, her chest pressed on his back, and wrapped her arms around Edward's waist, holding for life. Edward smiled to himself, turning his head. "All set?"

He could feel her nod before he pulled the reins and they started to move. Bella shifted insecurely and tightened her grip. Tyler started going downhill as Edward leaned back a little. "Could you check if I took my gun? It's in the left pouch."

Bella's face paled as she leaned left and placed her hand on the leather bag, feeling the cold iron. "I think so," she muttered, quickly snapping her hand away. "Why do you, uh, need a gun? I didn't know you owned one."

"It's for the wolves."

Bella blinked a few times, stuttering, "I-Is it likely that we, uh, meet one?"

"Don't tell me you haven't heard the howling at night. We do live next to a large forest without any human inhabitants. I cannot assure you that we don't meet them, but I most certainly hope not. Scars like mine don't grow on trees."

Bella had wondered what had happened to Edward's face, but possible contact with wild animals had never even occurred to her. She wanted to know about the burnt edges of his scar, but decided it could wait. She felt content that Edward hadn't told her about the wolves or she wouldn't have dared to go out of the house when it was dark. Bella observed the height of sun, thoughtful. "Edward?"

He casually pulled the right rein as the road ascended. "Hm?"

"Will we get there before it gets dark?"

"Technically, yes."

"Do I even want to know what 'technically' means in that sentence?"

Edward chuckled. "You'll find out anyway. The forest is dusky during the day, otherwise wolves wouldn't live here. It's just that much darker during the night. But worry about that tomorrow 'cause then you'll have a reason to be worried. We'll return around midnight."

Bella froze and wanted to wrap her whole body around Edward, making him smile. He didn't mention that he hadn't seen wolves for an entire year, and even if he saw one, the possibility of having to shoot a wolf without a valid reason was nearly non-existent. In spite of the Bush-era decision to exclude grey wolves in Wyoming from the Endangered Species Act, Edward would never gratuitously murder a wolf. A pack of seven lived nearby, but Edward hoped the hot summer provided enough food for them to keep distance.

Their surroundings changed, trees were higher and closer, moss covered the increasingly darkening forest floor and the heightening path narrowed. Bella noticed a small wooden sign in a nearby bush, and as she turned her head, the other side read, "Masen's Oak."

"I didn't know your farm had a name," Bella muttered, glad to have a reason to hold on to Edward so tightly.

"It's after my grandfather," he explained as their path crossed with a wider one. The distant sound of galloping reached their ears and Edward stopped the horse. "Can you hear that?"

"I can," she replied, not sure whether she should turn her head left or right to find the source of the sound, but when Edward motioned at their right, Bella noticed an increasing dark spot. They waited for the horseback-rider to reach them, and as they did, Bella had time to observe the woman on the horse.

She had an athletic body, light blonde hair that flew in the wind and piercing blue eyes. The woman slowed down as she noticed them, and masterly stayed on her horse that startled when it came too close to Edward's horse. Tyler abruptly backed down, making Bella shift unwillingly and her heart beat faster. Inhaling, she crawled back closer to Edward and wrapped her arms around him.

"Edward! Can't say I'm not surprised, what're you doing here?" the beautiful woman asked, polite and interested in her barely noticeable English accent. Her gaze was absorbed in Edward's and she didn't notice Bella. He'd stiffened as he recognised the woman, but hoped that if he kept it polite she would forget about Edward not calling her.

"Hi Jess," he chuckled. "What a pleasant surprise. I should ask you the same question."

Jessica smiled sincerely, showing her perfect white teeth. "I'm on my way to granny's. She forgot to feed her cat in the Northern Edge, poor her," she kept smiling. "Where are you going? And did you forget to call me?" Her attempts to sound teasing instead of offended were lost on Bella, who picked up her true feelings and had slowly started to untangle her arms from around Edward. Not once had it occurred to her that Edward might've already had a woman in his life and her heart plummeted as his indifference toward Bella quickly settled. _'Of course,'_ she thought.

"Yeah, sorry, busy times," Edward apologised, smiling as he turned the horse. "We're on our way to Emmett's place."

"'We?'" For the first time, Jessica's eyes landed on Bella, who had untied her hands and was feeling uncomfortable around the seemingly perfect woman. Jessica blinked several times, riding closer to shake Bella's hand.

Edward motioned toward Jessica. "Bella, this is Jessica. Jessica – Bella. She's staying at my place for a few weeks."

Jessica's 'deer in the headlights' eyes expressed her surprise, her body leaning forward as she appeared to be dumbfounded when they shook hands.

"Nice to meet you, Jessica," Bella covered her face with a wide smile, understanding that her envy couldn't be revealed as it wasn't Jessica's fault she probably held the place in Edward's life that Bella could only long for.

Jessica snapped out of her thoughts, still stunned. "The pleasure is all mine, Isabella," she politely replied, her eyes snapping toward Edward and back, expressing a bitter question when she tried to cover up her jealousy, but unlike Bella, her attempts remained futile. Jessica stared at Bella for a moment, seizing her up and making her flush in spite of the situation, but Bella couldn't blame Jessica for feeling self-conscious and a little hurt. Her current proximity to Edward was undeniable, even when she tried to lean a little back not to appear too involved.

Jessica's mouth opened for a few times as she obviously desired to question her for the reason the actress was in Wyoming, in the middle of the forest with the man she liked. The situation seemed incredibly absurd to her.

Edward, unaware of the emotional dilemma of the women next to her, drew them out of their thoughts. "It was nice meeting you here, Jess, but we should get there before it gets dark."

"Oh." She passed them with her horse, revolving a little. "It was great meeting you, Isabella. Have a nice trip!" she smiled a little bitterly, but her hurt expression didn't reduce her beauty.

Bella nodded, smiling. "You too!"

Their paths diverged, and as Bella turned her head left, she saw her graceful galloping.

"Bella, you're not holding on to me," Edward reminded her, oblivious to her distress. Bella silently placed her arms around Edward, but not as tightly as she'd done before. Edward huffed, gripping her wrists and tightening her hold. "What happened to your deathly grip? I don't want you to fall off, but I can't hold on to you _and_ the reins."

"Sorry," Bella whispered, wrapping her arms properly around Edward. She remained quiet and started to get sleepy when her mind had produced enough self-deprecating to last a lifetime. To her shame, she would've preferred if Jessica were an ugly old woman with no manners, but she seemed beautiful, graceful and interested in Edward. Bella wondered if Jessica was thinking of their odd encounter and if she thought the same about her. She felt only vaguely content that Jessica hadn't mentioned anything about her films, not nearly as excited as she should have. Her heartache increased as she leaned her head on Edward's back, shutting her eyes.

Edward smiled to himself when he felt Bella's head on his back, making sure that Tyler would continue his calm pace. The road kept ascending, but not enough to be a concern. Edward had made up him mind to bring Bella to the peak of the mountain and make a move on her. His cowardice had lasted for too long and he wanted to be able to express his nearly-bursting feelings, he already stunned himself for keeping everything in for so long.

An hour later, Edward stopped the horse and felt Bella yawn behind him. It was nearly sunset, and an orange coat seemed to cover the sky.

"Why did you stop?" Bella yawned again, hugging his back absent-mindedly. Edward chuckled, regretfully unwrapping her arms from around him. Bella started to take in her surroundings as she rubbed her face and finally woke up.

Edward carefully slid off the horse, gripped Bella's waist and placed her next to him, their noses accidentally touching before Bella's eyes widened and she turned away her head. Puzzled, Edward awkwardly rubbed his neck and tied a restless Tyler to a strong pine tree, making sure the horse wouldn't have a chance to escape. He casually placed a hand on Bella's back as he started to guide her toward the peak of the mountain through a small path. Bella shivered.

"Are you cold? I can give you my jacket," Edward offered, starting to take it off, but Bella blushed, shaking her head. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

Edward frowned. "I, on the other hand, am negative. You have goose bumps on your arm."

Bella's smile held a hint of sadness that Edward failed to unravel, but she remained silent. The heightening path became narrower and they kept dodging away from descending branches. Bella fumbled on rocks and roots, but when she refused Edward's help, he truly started to sense the difference in her behaviour. He'd gotten so used to her enthusiastic carefree nature that he couldn't see why Bella chose this moment to become distant.

Gripping the last branch, Edward stepped out of the way to let Bella take in the view. She halted to a stop just in front of him, forgetting all about her hurt. They were at the beginning of what formed a platform and also the peak of the mountain. Forest surrounded the place behind them from two sides, and a flat rock was at the end of the platform where a descending, gentle slope began. The surrounding mountains were clearly seen, and the hedged river glistened below them.

Bella stumbled back, but Edward firmly gripped her waist. "Careful."

She flushed, feeling that she should step out of his grip, but her feet wouldn't move. Edward locked eyes with her brown eyes, curious as to why she acted so hesitant around him, but instead of kissing her like he desperately longed to do, he turned her about and started to walk. "Come on, I want to show you something."

He guided her to the edge of the forest, where nothing exceptional could be seen except for the view on the other side of the platform. Bella questioningly eyed Edward, but he remained silent, gazed at the grass and kept pacing. He hunched down, sliding his hands across the burnt grass, but as he did so, a slick stone appeared from under the dust and grass.

_Esme Laura Cullen  
1957 – 2007_

_Life is art, but art without love remains meaningless._

Bella eyed at the tombstone as Edward stood up beside her, silent. Without waiting for her reaction, he crouched down again, leaning on his left and wiping the grass away from another stone.

_Carlisle Andrew Cullen  
1953 – 2001_

_Know yourself and you will win all battles._

Unaware of the reason Edward showed her this, Bella eyed his broad-shouldered back as he stood up. Edward shrugged a little, rubbing his neck before he offered Bella a hesitant smile. "I just thought... I just thought since I'm not that good at explaining my life, I'd show it to you."

Bella stepped next to him, her eyes on the stones as she reminded herself that while she'd enlightened him about her life, she had also complained about her parents, her very much alive parents. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I had no reason to concern you with my bad relationship with my parents when yours are... I'm so sorry." She had understood his parents must've been deceased from his rare mentions and the life he lived, but to face their tombstones felt entirely different. She couldn't grasp his courage to face the world on his own.

Edward chuckled, albeit a little sadly, but felt encouraged by the words on he'd seen after nearly three years, so he boldly wrapped his arm around Bella's waist and guided toward the flat stone at the edge of the platform. "Don't be."

Bella shivered and inhaled, voicing the question in her mind, "If you don't mind me asking, what happened to them?"

Edward offered her a sincere smile, one that held more acceptance than regret, and kissed her forehead. "I'll tell you some other time, okay?"

Bella relaxed, relieved that she hadn't gotten a negative answer. "I'll hold you to that."

He hummed contently, motioning toward the flat stone where they could sit. Noticing that Bella kept quivering, Edward took off his jacket and placed it on her shoulders. She almost drowned in it. He wrapped his arm around her, eyeing the sunset, yet gathering courage to reveal his feelings regardless of what Bella felt. She'd been rather quiet all evening, and he wanted to know the reason before he could act on his feelings.

"Bella, I can see that something's wrong. Tell me," he entreated, tightened his grip on her and eyed her doleful expression.

"It's nothing," she insisted.

"It doesn't look like nothing to me."

Bella's mouth formed an intentionally fake smile. "See? I'm okay."

He decided to not push the issue, not yet. The sun set, Edward tweaked his jacket around her and eyed the way Bella lost herself in the warm colours of the sunset, her eyelids closing as she leaned closer to him. Edward wrapped his other hand around her, placing his chin on her head. They sat in silence before Bella tilted her head back and opened her mouth, but the proximity must've startled her because she remained silent.

Edward inhaled and decisively leaned closer to her, desperately wanting his cowardice to end. Bella's eyes seemed to be closed, her lips a little parted and her breath tickling his neck. Edward cupped her jaw before Bella unexpectedly turned her head and prevented any contact, hugging him. "Jessica seems like a nice girl," she muttered.

Edward flinched. He felt like she kicked him in the gut – he was about to finally kiss her and she wanted to talk about _Jessica_? His throat tightened.

"She is," he nonchalantly agreed, not sure why Bella chose to bring up Jessica in such a private moment. All his self-deprecating thoughts returned along with profound self-doubt, and Edward started to realise he must've been in so deep he started to imagine signals where there weren't any. He felt raged by his own stupidity, but stifled it because of the girl in his arms.

Bella gulped. "Do you, uh, see her often?"

Why did this matter to her, especially at the moment? "Not really," he replied vaguely, closing his eyes as he thought of how much must've been wrong with him if he'd sensed Bella's interest. He couldn't have cared less about Jessica.

"I'm sorry," Bella whispered.

She's sorry? About him not seeing Jessica more often? Confused, Edward said nothing as he secured his grasp on Bella. He wanted to hold her without the knowledge that she didn't want him. Edward grimaced, taking his head off of hers before Bella locked eyes with him. He felt thoroughly torn, and Bella felt disappointed that the thought of Edward already having someone in his life never even crossed her mind. She couldn't help but feel infatuated by the teasing, almost painfully straightforward and adorable farmer, even if he was unattainable.

Bella attempted a smile, trying to lift his mood. "Your eyes are so pretty," she chuckled, "and brown."

Edward scowled, vaguely amused. "Look again, Bella."

Bella leaned a little closer, her own eyes almost inches from his. "What am I looking for?"

Intimidated by her closeness, Edward suppressed the urge to close the gap between them. "You've spent a week with me and you still don't know what colour my eyes are?"

The thought that his eyes could've been anything but brown hadn't even crossed her mind. "Uh... They're brown...ish?"

"Honestly, Bella, are you colour-blind or something? My eyes are green," Edward chuckled.

Bella's face paled.

* * *

**A/N:** Poor clueless Edward. I think he needs chocolate. Gratitude to the wonderful cascsiany for betaing! If you have a thought or two, I'd be excited to read them! :)


	5. Fiddling with Luck

**Disclaimer: **The Twilight Saga is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

**Warning:** This chapter contains minor spoilers to _Remembering_ and _Jealous_ _Vigilance_. If you do not wish to read those spoilers, skip the part where she observes the posters and read with caution.

**A/N:** Special thanks to Leon McFrenchington for kindly letting me mention his _Hunter_! Aitäh. I couldn't reach my wonderful beta cascsiany – the flaws in this lengthy chapter are entirely my fault. Please don't be afraid to point out my errors.

I hope you've all had a wonderful summer!

* * *

**A Cry for the Moon**  
by Merevaik

**Chapter 5: Fiddling with Luck  
**

Edward drew back, surprised by Bella's reaction to his teasing joke. She averted her eyes, but he'd already noticed. "You _do_? But I was – I was just kidding."

She brought her knees up to her chin, enfolded her legs and unwillingly withdrew from Edward's arms. "I do. Both of my parents have it, and so does my brother. Why do you think I crash as much as I do?"

He gazed at her before doing the last thing she expected – he let out a good-hearted laugh. "Unbelievable."

"Not really," she smiled a little sadly, but felt content that she had a distraction in the form of avoiding thoughts of Jessica and bringing the inevitable self-pity. "I didn't even know about it until I was about eight years old and drew myself with green hair and red eyes with a brown forest in the background. My classmates laughed at me, and I didn't know what was so funny about my picture. I've been told that the colour I see instead of red and green is brown, but really, I'm not sure if the colour I see is what you see."

The wind got stronger, blowing her hair into her face. "I've learned that forest is green and rose is red, but it looks pretty same to me. Maps with colour-coded legends are nearly impossible, some food looks disgusting that might look appealing to you – a bowlful of spinach just looks like cow pat – and I've memorised traffic signs from their position, not colour. But when only one colour is flashing... I just guess."

Bella fell silent as Edward took it all in, apologising, "I didn't mean to laugh at you, it's just that I've been complimented on my reddish hair and green eyes, and you – _you_ or all people – can't even see the difference. I'm obviously no hunk, but I've always been somewhat proud of my eyes…" he contemplated sadly, but quickly shook it off as he knew it wasn't her fault. "Do you only mix red and green?"

Bella nodded, surprised by how easy it was to talk about this to Edward, even after their awkward moment. "I do. I see the difference in intensity, but even if I see the colours mildly differently, I'm never sure. Not that I know how red looks like to you, but your hair – it isn't brown?"

"It's dark red." Edward stood up and offered her a helping hand. "But we should get going. I'm, uh, sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I didn't know…"

She carefully accepted his hand. "It's okay. Just promise you won't start pointing at random things and asking for what colour they are. That was the single most annoying thing about my disability when I was younger." She didn't add that Edward was the first person to discover her little disability as she usually put a lot of thought into hiding it, and not because she'd been embarrassed to have it, but because of the awkwardness it would cause. The incidents in her childhood had been enough.

Edward chuckled. "I promise."

Bella offered to return his jacket, but Edward shrugged it off, so she enjoyed the masculine smell around her as they continued riding. Tyler became restless and probably hungry, but their way downhill passed quickly. She dozed off again, but Edward's deep voice brought her back from her dreams.

"Bella?" Edward whispered, turning his head.

"Hm?"

"We're here."

"Hm."

"Are you awake?"

"Hm."

Edward unfolded Bella's arms from around him, sliding off before raising her off Tyler as well. She rubbed her face, but stumbled back into Edward's arms that suddenly felt incredibly comfortable. His chest moved back and forth as he chuckled. "You can wait for me in front of the house; I'll go and put Tyler in a stall before giving him some hay. Okay?"

"Okay," Bella blinked at Edward, hoping that her feelings weren't as see-through as she feared. Edward contemplatively eyed her face as if searching for something, but offered her an assuring smile before leaving.

"Don't get eaten by the wolves before I come back," he added, walking toward the shed. Bella froze, keeping quiet as she tried to listen to the sounds of the forest. A few birds were singing, but she relaxed when she heard no howling. The sun had set a few hours ago, but the sky was still dim. Bella hesitantly walked toward the white house with two floors, surrounded by three lower buildings and a forest behind it. She was trying to gather her courage to face Edward's brother who would most probably recognise her. If she was lucky, he wouldn't make a big deal out of it, if she wasn't, she had to think of the consequences later.

"Hey Edward! I was just wondering if you took my–" the man's voice paused as Bella turned about, "you're… not Edward."

The man approaching her was muscular, with broad-shoulders, dark short hair and blue eyes. Bella imagined how odd she must've appeared for him, just standing in his yard, drowning in Edward's jacket and biting her fingernails. She decided to face him with humour, smiling. "Unless he changed gender… no."

He stopped dead on his tracks, staring at Bella before he turned his head, observing the area. Bella kept smiling, hoping he wouldn't turn out to be a fan or a hater as both of these extremes would make her life rather difficult. The man kept turning, seeking for something and unsettling Bella, who decided to offer her hand. "I'm–"

"I know who you are," he frowned, not accepting her hand as he stood completely motionless.

Bella lowered her hand, stunned and a little scared. "What're you searching for?"

He snapped out of whatever trance he'd been in and tilted his head on the side. "A camera. I'm in candid camera, right? Punk'd? Some charity TV-show?"

"No," Bella laughed at his concern. "None of these options. I came with your brother."

He kept staring at her, muttering, "I feel like a freakin' Hally Berry just stepped on my land."

She smiled awkwardly. "I'm no Hally Berry."

"Not far, either," he said, still eyeing Bella as if she disappeared if he didn't. "Wait – you came with Edward, my brother Edward?"

"That's what I said. Didn't he tell you he'd bring me?" Bella asked, hoping she wasn't an unpleasant surprise.

"He told me he'd bring a 'Bella', which hardly qualifies as the Oscar-nominated, Emmy-winning, Golden Globe Award–"

"Yeah," she cut him off, unsure as to why he knew so much about her. "Please call me Bella." Once again, she nervously offered her hand, which he accepted this time.

"Emmett," he replied, holding her hand in an extremely strong grip. "Can I ask what the hell a girl like you is doing in this shit-hole?"

Bella laughed at his bluntness. "Resting."

"Huh," he answered as Bella nervously motioned at their twined hands. "Ah, of course," he muttered before flushing and withdrawing his hand. Bella rubbed hers against her thigh, hoping to make her blood vessels work again. Emmett motioned toward the house. "Would you like to step inside?"

"Sure."

"Just, uh, keep quiet. My wife's sleeping and she's a little irritable in her last stage of pregnancy."

"Done."

She followed him to their terrace and entered. Emmett quickly started to tidy the place, rushing from one end of the room to the other and murmuring, "If we'd know you were comin', we would've made it clean or somethin'…"

"Emmett." She couldn't help but chuckle. "Calm down, I don't have OCD."

He stopped, eyeing her. "But you're our guest, and _what_ a guest…"

She shrugged off his words, motioning toward the chair behind the round kitchen table. "May I sit?"

"'Course," he replied, holding milk can in one hand and a screw-driver in the other. "You really don't mind the mess? 'Cause I hate cleanin'."

Once again, Bella let out a laugh. "No, I really don't."

He exhaled, obviously relieved, sat down next to her and offered her a fruit platter. She gladly accepted an apple. As she ate, he kept fidgeting, and as many times before, Bella understood that she made him nervous. "Just forget that you know who I am."

"Forget?" he laughed. "Uh, no. Not possible," he paused before his face lit up. "Oh God, I can't wait 'til Eric sees you! He'll pee his pants."

"Who's Eric?"

"He's one my ranch hands. He's literally crazy about you."

Bella shifted uncomfortably, trying to figure out how to tell Emmett that Edward wasn't aware of her occupation. She didn't want to pull him into her mess, but she also didn't want Edward to hear the truth from someone else. "Emmett? Could you please not tell Edward who I am?"

He frowned, playing with the screw-driver in front of him. "What do you mean?"

Before she could answer, Edward stepped in and wiped his jeans, peeking in the kitchen. "Ah, hey! I was wondering where you disappeared." Edward gave her a smile before sitting across the table and starting to make a sandwich. He rubbed his wrist as he chewed on his bite. "I see you've already met each other."

Emmett narrowed his eyes at Bella before he eyed Edward. "You could say that, yeah."

Unaware of their silent conversation, Edward offered Bella a slight smile before asking Emmett when his friend would arrive to purchase Tyler and specify the price. As they clarified what the next day would bring – building a doghouse and grooming the horses – Bella felt herself slowly doze off, but Emmett's mention of Edward's banjo-playing skills quickly brought her back from the haze.

"Would you be willin' to help Sam out back in saloon? I know it's not your time to perform, but Paul bailed out on us and Embry's got some nasty flu and, well, you're the only one I know who's got free time and can play somethin'."

Edward stopped chewing and his eyes flickered toward Bella for a second. "But I – I haven't played since April…"

Emmett felt relieved at the opportunity to negotiate. "You'd have a few days to get into it; it's not like you forget how to play."

"When?"

"Next Thursday."

"At The Virginian Lodge?"

"As always."

Unsure, Edward eyed Bella, contemplating. "Bella, what do you think?"

She was flattered that it mattered to Edward what she thought, but going to the Jackson Hole could only either end up in more deceit or brutal honesty. It's not like she could pull a paper-bag over her head and claim to be a footed cupboard. "Next Thursday?" she asked, fearful. "Does that apply as the next week or the week after the next one?"

"Next week," Emmett answered before glancing at the old pendule clock. "Or since it's over midnight – technically this week, in four days."

Edward, reminding himself how much her earlier withdrawal could've been connected to his blunt character, wanted Bella to make the choice. "Your call."

Bella hesitated for a moment, but realised that at the end of the week, in one way or the other, she'd have to reveal her identity. She couldn't leave without telling him. "If you want to go, you should."

"Then I'm in," Edward answered simply and continued to eat his sandwich. Understanding that the agreement was more Bella's work than anything, Emmett gave her an appreciative nod. She mirrored the action, feeling like she was part of some wicked ploy. Bella felt grateful that Emmett hadn't flat-out told Edward about her occupation, but the narrowed eyes from earlier probably meant a future conversation, and not a happy one. There were also other people in the house – she didn't know whether his wife knew who she was, and if she did, Bella didn't know how much she showed her "discovery." Unless she convinced Emmett, his wife and their ranch-hand to hide her job from Edward, she could only depend on luck.

She loved to be a clean sleet to Edward. The unbiased way he perceived her, never making comments about how she was an actress and shouldn't have done something or wasn't worth making her hands dirty relaxed her. For once, she didn't feel obliged to leap over others' expectations of her or refute the speculated rumors yet again.

Bella felt a gentle nudge on her shoulder and jumped a little, startled. "Time to sleep," Edward leaned a little closer, helping her get up as she realised it was almost one AM and she'd dozed off as Emmett and Edward talked about horses.

"Where do I sleep?" Bella asked. She placed Edward's jacket (that she'd forgotten she was wearing) on the back of a chair.

"Isabella's sleeping in Eric's room since he's in town today. Edward, you'll sleep on the couch." Emmett stood up, eyeing them and seeing how differently Edward behaved around the actress, always making sure that the woman was all right – if he wasn't close to her, then his eyes were surely on her, noticing his concern when she'd slept with her chin on her hand, head on the table. The discovery made Emmett feel uneasy.

"I don't mind sleeping on the couch," Bella replied sincerely, but both Edward and Emmett argued – though for entirely different reasons – so Bella quickly shut up. She hugged Edward goodnight (he couldn't help but feel a little awkward) before Emmett showed her Eric's room on the second floor.

"I wouldn't have minded you sleeping on the couch, but he'd be sleeping in a room filled with you, and given the situation…" Confused, Bella raised her eyebrows and frowned at Emmett who was holding the door open for her. "You'll see."

Bella entered hesitantly, uncertain as to what was waiting for her.

Every surface of the wall was covered with full-size posters of her, from magazines or films, independent or otherwise. "Uh..."

"My thoughts exactly," he chuckled at the absurd situation. The only reason he knew more of her background than Bella might've realised was because of Eric, and his ranch-hand knew a scary amount of information about the actress.

"Can I stay for a moment?" Emmett asked, already sitting on the edge of the bed. Bella nodded, sitting next to him and draping a leg under her, trying to open her eyes wide so she wouldn't appear as sleepy as she felt. Emmett noticed and chuckled, albeit humourlessly. "Don't worry, this'll only take a few minutes."

She nodded mutely, waiting for him to speak. He appeared rather nervous again, avoiding her gaze, but as he understood he'd still end up looking at one of the posters of her, he stopped. "Isabella."

"Bella," she reminded.

"Okay, Bella," he corrected himself. "I might have not said a word about you to Edward, but I definitely don't approve you lyin' to my brother. He deserves to know."

"I know," she sighed. "Trust me, I know."

Emmett, who had expected her to draw some poor excuses out of her sleeve, was taken by surprise. "Then why the humbuggery?"

Bella drew a breath before explaining herself, not beautifying her life, but not exaggerating, either. She simply clarified the facts, telling him how liberating it was to be around someone who didn't cover her with blandishment and didn't have expectations of her. Emmett observed her story, trying to see Bella's perspective and discovering that in a deeply twisted way, he might've even understood her. "But why couldn't you just tell him: 'Hi, Edward, I'm an actress, not a big deal'?"

Bella rubbed her eyes. "It's a little late for that. But if I had, what do you think he would've done?"

"Knowin' that you're famous? He would've freaked out. Actually, I think he _will_ freak out. Hell, you still freak me out," he chuckled nervously and paused, thinking of her situation. "If it's that important to you, then I won't tell him and I might be able to convince others not to say anythin', but you need to tell him before things get out of hand, okay?"

She nodded mutely and rubbed her face again.

Emmett eyed her sleepy face and got up, still slightly uncomfortable around the actress. "Listen, I probably shouldn't tell you this, but… I don't know if you've realised how much he likes you."

Eyes now wide open, Bella raised her head. "Edward?"

"Yeah," Emmett chuckled. "Don't look so surprised, it's not like you're a green-faced ogre with five legs. It's not that difficult to like you."

Bella sat straighter and stared at Emmett, but he mumbled a goodnight and left before her sleepy self could register his words. Edward liked her?

Edward liked her.

A smile covered her face, but it dissolved when she thought of Jessica and stood up, wanting to ask Emmett about her. If Bella had made a mistake and misunderstood, she needed to know. She opened her door. "Emmett?"

The corridor was empty, light shimmering on the other side of the corridor as a silent echoing of a music channel reached her. Disappointed, Bella carefully closed the door. She could ask him about it tomorrow.

Alone, Bella hesitantly eyed the posters surrounding her, some rather old and some so fresh the movies weren't even out yet. She stepped in front of the nearest poster, uncrumpled the edge, and read the tagline, _'The girl who can't remember her past holds a key to the future.' _The picture centred Eva's back, sitting on the edge of a cliff in Italy with Joshua Stevens, the amnesiac narrator's love interest. The ring, the watch and the medaglion lay next to the mirroring images of James and Jonathan in a lab, an unconscious Eva placed in between them. Bella had been too short for the role, but otherwise suitable and eager to play Eva after reading the book. The poster read, _'Past opens on the 4th of July.' _

The day she met Edward.

She lowered her hand and the edge rolled back, hiding the date of the opening. The next poster was larger and newer, picturing a short-haired Ashley with her arm around a wounded Ian, a scene where the character had no other choice but to forget Ian's reluctance to communicate with her after finding out what the girl was hiding. Bella had gone through tough training, cut off her long hair and learned to swim for the role. It was filmed just after _Remembering_, but was released earlier as the former was surrounded by too much unnecessary hype around the book.

Bella had not seen the result, so she didn't have the slightest clue as to how it turned out.

She sighed, eyeing the other posters and magazine cut-outs. Fortunately, there weren't any news how _'Isabella Ate in McDonald's'_ or _'Isabella's Dress Mishap'_. Bella figured that if she was already giving them the chance to talk about her car-crashes, she might as well keep low radar otherwise. She still couldn't get used to the unexpected paparazzi, but as she didn't want to make a big deal out of their presence, she usually offered them a smile before continuing to do whatever she'd been doing.

Her job wasn't all that bad. It just came with a disheartening lack of privacy.

.-*-.-*-.

Bella had spent so much time sleeping on the horse yesterday that she woke up earlier, happy she had time to observe the farmstead and the foreign house. For the first time since her crash, she had a welcomed chance to shower, making sure to turn the water as cold as she could bear – the heat wave hadn't ceased. Observing herself from a mirror, Bella gladly discovered that she looked relaxed and almost as lively as she felt, ready to face the day with unexpected optimism.

Bella gladly noticed that Rosalie's jeans fit her better, and smiled as she quietly left her room.

Most of the walls in the house were wooden, leaving the impression of a rather large cottage, and a large amount of paintings with almost disparate style covered the walls. She took the liberty to make a sandwich, raising her knee up to her chin as she tried to figure out why so many paintings reflecting the style of so different eras were mixed together, the Gauguin-style post-impressionistic painting of a man next to an almost classicistic Poussin-like war painting. None of the paintings fit this place.

She got up and poured herself a cup of coffee, unaware that she was being watched.

A blonde woman gracefully descended from the wooden stairs, her colourful hippie-style dress sliding on the steps. She held on to the handrail, occasionally leaning on it, but halted to a stop as her eyes landed on the familiar-looking woman behind their large rounded kitchen table. Emmett, who was sleepily following his wife, almost bumped into her, but firmly placed a hand on her shoulder and steadied her. "You okay, honey?"

Rosalie nodded curtly, staring at the actress who was casually eating a sandwich and absent-mindedly observing the miscellaneous paintings on their walls.

"Why is Isabella Swan sitting behind our kitchen table?" Rosalie whispered.

"She's probably hungry."

Rosalie turned her head in disbelief. "Yes, and that explains why Isabella is in Wyoming, in our house, eating breakfast."

"She's with Edward." He chuckled. "Come on, I'll introduce you."

Bella raised her head after Emmett had cleared his throat, an intimidatingly beautiful woman by his side. Bella immediately stood up, smiling faintly. "Good morning."

Rosalie carefully eyed Emmett before approaching Bella, recognising the clothes on the actress. Bella felt like shrinking under her gaze, but timidly offered her hand. "I'm Isabella, but please call me Bella."

Once again, Rosalie turned hear head to lock eyes with Emmett and notice any sign of a prank. He seemed rather amused by Rosalie's surprise, knowing that his reaction hadn't been much different. Rosalie uncertainly accepted her hand. "Rose."

"Nice to meet you, Rose," Bella said politely, smiling as an effort to hide her anxiety. The pregnant woman observed her in a rather intimidating way and Bella wanted to avert her eyes, but managed not to. Emmett pecked Rosalie's cheek before lifting the chair next to her and starting to boil hot water. Rose sat across the table from Bella.

Bella brought coffee to her lips. "I already made some coffee."

"Thanks," Emmett shrugged, smiling. "Rose doesn't drink coffee, but I certainly wouldn't mind havin' some."

Rose carefully eyed Bella, averting her eyes to Emmett and back. "No offence, Isabella, but what are you doing here?"

"Bella," she corrected. "Please call me Bella."

Rosalie dismissed her comment. "Why are you here, Isabella?"

"She's with Edward," Emmett answered, amused and more comfortable around the actress than he'd been yesterday. "He saved her from a car crash about a week ago and doesn't know she's famous." Bella expected Emmett to mock-gasp and say, 'ta-da!' but he just kept eyeing her thoughtfully.

Rosalie's attitude changed a little, her expression lightened and shoulders relaxed as she accepted the tea-cup from Emmett. "He doesn't know? Can't say I'd be surprised. Why haven't you told him?"

Startled by the obvious diminishing tension in Rosalie's demeanour, Bella smiled slightly as she explained herself yet again. Emmett's wife became visibly warmer toward her and the intimidation started to feel like a distant memory when they washed up together. Edward was still sleeping and Emmett left to do the morning chores.

"You know, you're not as uptight as I thought you'd be," Rosalie admitted, wiping the platter with a dish-towel. "You're kinda cool for a celebrity."

Bella grimaced, not wanting to be called a 'celebrity' – it called for prejudice and undeserved fame. "Thank you, you're not as irritable as Emmett claimed you'd be."

Rosalie arched an eyebrow, silent. Bella realised Edward's bluntness must be rubbing off on her and apologized, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

"Relax." Rosalie shrugged, contemplating. "I've probably given Emmett a hard time lately. I'm rather surprised he hasn't run away yet."

Bella recognised a hint of a smile on Rosalie's face, and laughed. "Lucky you."

"Indeed," she smiled, but strongly gripped the counter a moment later. Bella immediately stopped the water, holding her, and helped her sit down.

"What's wrong?"

Rosalie grimaced, breathing deliberately and shutting her eyes. "It's nothing. I just feel a little dizzy. It happens."

Bella sat in front of her, concerned and hoping she wouldn't panic. "Should I get help? Do you need anything? Is there something I can do for you? Would you like me to go and get Emmett?"

In spite of her weakness, Rosalie managed a faint smile. "I'm pregnant and you're the one who's panicking? I'll be fine, really, just give me a sec."

Bella sighed, still bringing Rosalie some water before she sat down and started to nervously bite her fingernails. "When are you due?"

"Yesterday."

Bella's elbow missed the table. "Are you serious?"

"No, I'm funny," she retorted sarcastically. "Of course I'm serious. Don't be too worried, though. You'll drive me nuts if you start to worry too, my own mind is enough for me."

"Okay," Bella squeaked before Edward appeared on the doorstep, scruff covering his chin and his half-long hair in complete disarray. Bella's face flushed as she realised she started at him long enough for Edward to notice.

"Morning." He smiled at Bella, but his face fell immediately when he noticed Rosalie's position. "Shit, are you alright?"

Rosalie inhaled, raising her head. "You two would make such a perfect couple, honestly. Go worry about each other, I'm fine."

Edward awkwardly rubbed his neck, noticing that Bella averted her eyes when she flushed a deep shade of red. Determined to ignore his own awkwardness, Edward stepped closer to them and crouched before Rosalie. "We have a reason to be worried, Rose."

"Edward," she snapped when he tried to help her get up. "I'm pregnant, not crippled. I'll go lay down in my bed, happy?"

"Very," he replied, still helping her when she went upstairs. He was back in the kitchen a moment later, pouring himself a lukewarm cup of coffee as he eyed Bella, who was absorbed in a painting. Edward sat next to her, thoughtful. He'd spent most of the night trying to figure out what he'd done wrong, but now it occurred to him he might've focused on the wrong thing. Perhaps if he'd change himself for her, learn to be less blunt and more open about his feelings, she'd see that he wasn't such a bad prospect.

Or was he deluding himself? Would he have the confidence to show her how he felt after yesterday? He knew the answer was negative. Why couldn't he just accept it?

She simply wasn't interested.

Edward scowled at the cup of coffee, not hearing Bella's words until she'd gently nudged him. "You dozed off for a moment there." She gave him a wary smile. "Is she okay?"

"I think so," he replied, trying to warm his hands with the coffee. "How'd you sleep?"

Bella relaxed, focusing her eyes on him. "Very well, you?"

"Decently enough."

Seeing Edward so close to her, morning scruff on his jaw and hair dishevelled, Bella thought of how handsome he would've looked if it weren't for the scar. But it wasn't ugly, per se, it was artistic more than anything. Bella remembered what Emmett had told her yesterday and had every intention to ask Emmett about Jessica, but since she hadn't had the chance yet, she simply felt like she owed Edward an apology. "Edward, I just wanted to explain about yesterday… I – I shouldn't have…"

Edward shut his eyes, downed the coffee, stood up and smacked his cup on the table. "I need to work."

"But I…"

"I'll see you later," he replied, desperately wanting to avoid her apology. Bella withdrew from the table, silently eyeing the way Edward almost ran from the kitchen. She hunched a little before realising that this might have actually been positive – at least he wasn't nonchalant toward her. If Bella had actually misunderstood his relationship with Jessica, maybe he thought she'd apologise for rejecting him?

She exited the house, squinting her eyes when she started to search for Emmett to get answers. The sky was blue, but the wind had gotten stronger and Bella crossed her arms in front of her to get warm, wondering in which house Emmett could be in.

"You look awfully familiar, my dear."

Like the night before, Bella startled and turned around, facing an elderly man who stooped on a stump and sewed a saddle. His hair was grey, nose slightly crooked, he had a lanky build and a sincere smile with half of his teeth missing. The old man appeared to be friendly and Bella relaxed gradually, lowering her hand from her heart.

"Uh, hi," she greeted. "I didn't see you there. I'm Bella." She smiled and offered her hand.

"Matthew, Eric's grandpa," he replied, accepting her hand. "So you're a greenie, huh?"

Unsure as to what he was referring to, Bella frowned. "A greenie?"

"Ah, never mind," he shrugged and offered her a smile before gripping his sewing awl again. "If you're looking for Edward, he's in the stable back there." He motioned at the farthest building and eyed the girl. "Did you do something to annoy him? He looked quite mad."

Bella gulped. "I might have. But I'm actually looking for Emmett, do you happen to know where he is?"

"Sure," he nodded, clutching on to his left hand that tended to quiver without his will. "Just go down the gravel road, turn right behind the dried oak on a dirt lane, you'll see a broken granary on your right after ten minutes, turn left before a thick cottonwood tree and you'll see the inside arena behind the descending wheat field. It's impossible to miss."

"Thanks." Bella blinked a few times. "But if you suddenly hear someone yelling from the woods, it's probably me lost in there."

Matthew smiled. "Ah, you'll do fine, just follow my instructions."

"I'll try," Bella answered, waving at the man before abiding by his words and starting to trudge toward the arena through the forest. She hesitated more than once, desperate to remember the places she passed in case she did end up in the wrong place, but just as Bella thought the broken granary would never come, she saw a wheat field and a lonely tree. Smiling, Bella jogged to the large house, the strong wind tousling her hair. She heard hoof-beat from the inside, and creaked the doors open.

Emmett was in the middle of the arena, trotting with a dark horse and concentrating on the pace, unaware of Bella's presence. She approached him, but didn't go farther from the wooden fence as she feared the horse and didn't want to interrupt.

She had counted twenty one laps before Emmett noticed Bella and slowed down. He stopped the horse, hopped off and gripped the reins before nearing her. "Isabella, what're you doin' here?"

"Bella," she reminded him once again. "It's Bella."

"Okay," he agreed. "But what're you doin' here?"

She averted her eyes, starting to wriggle with her hands and hesitating. "I just had a few questions about Edward if you have time to answer them. I didn't mean to interrupt."

Feeling uneasy, Emmett carefully tied down the horse, slipped through the sparse wooden fence and slumped down next to her. "Sure, what do you wanna know?"

Bella paused and fidgeted a little, but decided to get straight to the business. "Other than me being, uh, rather well-known, do you think he minds that I'm an actress?"

"_Rather well-known_?" he questioned, amused. "If you insist."

Bella couldn't help but roll her eyes. "You know what I mean. Do you think he minds?"

"I'm not sure," he pondered. "Edward's never been much of a TV person, and he doesn't think highly of actors, so you definitely won't wow him with it. But be prepared for his disbelief for anythin' you've said to him. He'll think you pity him."

Bella inhaled sharply. "Do _you_? I mean, do you think I pity him?"

"Honestly?" he asked. "Yeah. Look at him, and look at you, and… I don't think there's that much to discuss."

"I don't!" Bella objected almost fiercely, but flushed a little. "I'm sorry, I mean – I don't pity him. Is there any way I can prove that to him?"

Emmett hesitated, unsure if they were talking about friendship or something more, and if she was aware that Edward didn't do flings, he was serious about pursuing a woman if it came to that. "Listen, no offence, but I'm not sure if I want you to prove it. You're from LA, from a world we know nothin' about; it's far too easy for you to get… distracted, if you could call it that. Edward's a really nice guy once you get past his face and a little rough country-side manner. You're beautiful 'n famous 'n all, but Edward's still my little brother and I don't want you to hurt him."

Bella shut her eyes, undeniably stung by his words as she argued, "If I stuck around, would that show my sincere intentions? I'm not as bad once you get to know me, really."

Emmett laughed quietly. "I'm not sayin' you're bad, Bella, I'm sayin' even if you liked Edward, your world wouldn't fit into his and the other way round. He's very serious about relationships." Emmett watched as the actress next to him hunched, having closed her eyes and looking rather depressed. He compassionately eyed her back, but didn't do anything to take back his words.

"Remember how you told me he liked me?" she muttered, getting to the point she wanted to address the first place. "What about Jessica?"

"What about her?"

"We saw her on our way here – she looked pretty hurt when she saw me riding with him, she's very beautiful and lives close to Edward, or certainly closer than I do," she listed on her fingers, straightening her back. "And he was supposed to call her, but forgot. She seems perfect for him."

Even when he didn't like the idea of the actress messing around with his brother's feelings, Emmett couldn't help but chuckle.

"What?"

"Bella, beautiful people are all about first impressions, you of all people should know that. I can assure you that there's nothin' between them."

"Are you serious?"

Emmett nodded, standing up and stretching himself. Bella felt blood drain from her face – what had Edward thought after she'd refused to kiss him? She screwed up worse than she originally thought.

"Why the long face?"

Bella rubbed her face. "It's just…"

Interested, Emmett sat back down next to her. "It's just…?"

"It's just that–" she swallowed, starting to flush. "He tried to kiss me, and I – I turned him down…" She blushed, resting her elbows on her knees and holding her face as she looked at his scowl from behind her fingers.

"Shit, you're an idiot."

"I know."

Emmett curiously eyed the actress next to him as she twiddled with her hands, blushing and avoiding his eyes, and it occurred to him that he hadn't considered the chance that Bella might actually like Edward in spite of his flaws. She might've been from the city, but she hadn't shown any sign of superiority that he'd experienced with non-famous people who came to Wyoming. "Do you like him?"

Bella flushed further and nodded.

Emmett felt relieved, but still couldn't believe he was having this uncomfortable conversation, especially with Isabella Swan. "I mean, do you like him more than a summer fling kinda way?"

She nodded.

"I might like you a little more now. But if you're serious about Edward, you need to be serious. It's tough to get to know him, and while it's well worth the effort, if you don't want to tie yourself with him, don't let anythin' happen between you two, okay? I won't come thankin' you if you break his heart."

"Okay," Bella almost squeaked just as the doors opened and footsteps followed.

"Hey, Emmett, I remembered you wanted the screw wrench, twenty one millimetres just as you– …ah," he paused, feeling awkward as he started to rub his neck, not knowing what to say. Bella stood up and offered Edward a smile before retreating from them.

"Thanks for the help, Emmett," she uttered before exiting and finding her way back to the farmstead. The forest near Emmett's farm was sparser and Bella didn't even think of the possibility of wolves.

.-*-.-*-.

While the life in this farmstead resembled to Masen's Oak, it also carried quite a few differences: the house was completed, had a working plumbing system, they owned a few cows, their closest neighbours (as well as distant relatives) – Eric, Matthew and Grace Yorkie – lived merely three miles away and the extremely windy yard was covered with several tractors and dirty trucks. The farmstead was open to the valley, but the river didn't flow as close to the farm as it did in Masen's Oak and the edge of the riverbank didn't fall so steeply.

Since Eric lived close, he'd been the perfect ranch hand for Emmett. He'd offered him a vacant room in his house when the work grew over their heads and saw this as a chance to keep more eyes on his pregnant wife. Eric's grandparents didn't mind – they were often there for dinners and helped them out whenever they could.

Having found out that Eric would be joining them during the day, Bella started to avoid lingering around Edward for the fear that Emmett's ranch hand would appear out of nowhere and exclaim his eternal love for her.

She wasn't sure if that would be the case, but judging by the numerous posters on Eric's wall, an extreme reaction didn't sound like impossibility.

Bella had thought a lot about Emmett's words and couldn't help but _want_ to disagree with a few things. While she understood Emmett's wary reaction to the fact that Edward liked her – a woman from a drastically different world – she also knew that he could have lied about Jessica so that Bella would think she didn't have a chance. He hadn't. However, whenever Bella stumbled on a chance to be around Edward (which she generally avoided), he tended to be awkward, avoided her eyes and just concentrated on the job in his hands. Emmett had caught her staring when he'd been hogging Tyler's mane and amusedly pointed it out to Edward, who fumbled, but tried to shrug it off.

The actress spent most of her day with Rosalie because Rose had insisted to have a (rare) female companion for the day. At the age of twenty seven, Rosalie had had two miscarriages and as she feared to have another one, she followed every rule, avoided all risks and according to her, led a deeply interesting life. Bella learned that Rosalie was a sarcastic, careful and independent woman who'd grown up in Cheyenne and met Emmett in a Drive-thru liquor store.

"I didn't even know those existed," Bella claimed, amused as she helped her chop the vegetables for dinner.

"Oh, not in Jackson Hole. We met in Cheyenne, the only town in Wyoming to have an escalator."

Bella tilted her head back to notice an amused smile on her face. "You're not serious, are you?"

"No, I already told you I'm funny," Rose retorted. Bella chuckled.

Rosalie paused for a moment as she touched her stomach and closed her eyes. Bella shifted her chair closer, but Rose had already opened her eyes and offered her a warning look, not wanting to be pampered just because she was pregnant. Bella raised her hands to show she wasn't going to cover her with concern. Rose relaxed and leaned back on the chair before taking a sip of water.

"Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?" Bella asked before she could stop herself.

Rosalie's smile was wider than Bella had witnessed during the day they spent together. "It's a boy."

Bella relaxed, a little ashamed of her own enthusiastic questioning. "I've always thought the first one should be a boy. You know, so that he could scare away all the potential men from the future sister. Have you thought of names yet?"

"You'll just have to stick around to hear them."

Bella shifted uncomfortably, but chose to change the subject as she was interested in Rosalie's reaction to Bella. "Can I ask you something?"

"No," she answered, shaking her head. Unsure if she was kidding, Bella shut up. Rosalie huffed and gently chuckled at her. "You have a good heart, Bella, but you ought to be used to our brusque behaviour by now." She smiled. "Don't ask if you can ask a question, otherwise I have no other choice but to answer twice."

Bella nodded obediently, feeling a little awkward. "Why did you become so warm toward me when you heard Edward didn't know about me being, you know…"

"Famous?" Rose smirked.

Bella shifted. "I wanted to say 'an actress', but I guess famous will have to do."

"I think it's kinda selfless of you to attempt to be anonymous around him. You didn't use the chance to sound intimidating or use your occupation to your advantage and that's nice. It's noble."

Bella's eyes widened before she muttered, "I disagree. I think it's one of the most selfish things I've ever done."

Rosalie shrugged. "Selfish or selfless, it doesn't matter. Purpose matters. I don't mind you keeping it from him while you get to know each other. You'd have scared him away if you told him right away and I think he deserves to find happiness. If that's you, then… go ahead. Make him happy," she smiled briefly. "I wouldn't mind having an inside voice in Hollywood."

Bella laughed, somehow relieved that Rose wasn't entirely against her. "Emmett thought he'd freak out when I finally tell him. I'd understand if he did. It's a lot to handle."

"Emmett also thinks the Earth will end on the 2012. He's never been anything but pessimistic about the future. He thinks being prepared for the bad is better than expecting the good. So Emmett might be right, but he isn't compelled to be. It's all up to you, really."

Silence fell upon the room, the occasional clanking of the knives and mixing of the dough intruding the silence. Rosalie eyed the actress appraisingly, and as Bella noticed, she knew it was the look given to a person who's life you're familiar with, but feel hesitant prying.

"What's it like?" Rose suddenly asked, putting her knife down. "Being out there for the world to criticise?"

Bella stopped cutting, pondering on the thought. "I used to find it scary, but now I'm getting used to it. It's not that bad once I learned to see the difference between what is expected to matter and what really matters."

"But won't it grow over your head? I'd be pretty pissed if my every move was a subject of the latest gossip and scrutinised on the yellow pages."

"That's why I'm here," she answered simply. "And that's why I stopped reading the magazines. Makes all the difference in the world."

"Wise," Rosalie agreed, thoughtful. "Did you always know you wanted to become an actress?"

"God, no!" Bella laughed. "I got my first role by an accident when Hunter's director was searching for suitable character from all over America, he happened to be in Seattle and was meeting with Char– my father and I happened to stumble along with him." Bella muttered something Rose could not understand. "And I couldn't act to save my life, I was so nervous. But, miraculously, they saw something and hired me. Miracles do happen."

Rosalie's face lit up. "I think we have the whole series. We should watch it together, that'd be pretty cool."

Bella's face paled. "I, uh, I'm not sure. I haven't seen it since, well, I've never actually seen it."

"Honestly?" Rose huffed. "But that's like the classic series. Eric would die if he knew you haven't seen it."

Bella flushed and hid her face. She peeked out from behind her fingers. "Speaking of him, will he be very, uh – I mean, is Eric an extreme fan?"

"Are you kidding me? He might have a heart attack."

"Great," Bella responded, automatically glancing outside as if Eric could pop out from behind the forest. "I can't hide my occupation any longer if Eric falls on his knees right in front of Edward."

Rosalie didn't seem worried. "I guess we'll just have to make sure he won't do it when Edward's around. Eric should arrive in a few hours, so all you have to do is stay inside."

"I feel bad about this. Why are you helping me?"

Rosalie shrugged. "Edward's a lucky guy. Just don't break his heart."

Bella flushed furiously. "It's not like that."

"Not yet."

Bella gulped and made a feeble effort to sound nonchalant. "How do you know?"

"Isabella," she answered, struggling not to huff at the actress. "You'd have to be blind not to notice the way he looks at you. No, actually – I'm pretty sure even a blind person could feel it."

"Rose!" Bella was certain her face would break into flames if she blushed further.

"Just laying the truth out there," she responded, amused at Bella's blushing. "So, if you didn't want to become an actress, who did you want to be?"

Bella mock-glared at her for the briefest moment, but answered obediently. "A truck driver. I would've been disastrous, but at the time, I thought it was the coolest profession in the world. My neighbour back in Forks had this terribly noisy red truck and he occasionally gave me a ride to school. It was wicked."

Rosalie gripped the knife and pointed at her. "You're weird."

"Thank you," Bella mock-curtsied before they both laughed and continued to chop the vegetables. They'd worked, laughed and talked for an hour before a muddy used-to-be-blue cruiser pulled up in front of the house. Bella saw the lanky boy gesture wildly at his grandfather before the front door creaked and footsteps followed.

"Anyone home?" a voice yelled, cracking slightly.

Rosalie winked at Bella before responding, "We're in the kitchen!"

Bella hesitantly placed the knife on the cutting board, smoothed her unruly hair and tried to prepare herself for the unexpected. Rosalie gave her an assuring smile. Two seconds later, a tall, blonde-haired boy with a long face and crooked nose stood on the doorway, opened his mouth, but closed it immediately when his eyes landed on Bella.

He blinked rapidly.

"Good evening," Bella greeted, smiling. She wiped her carrot-y hands on the dotted apron and stepped closer to the boy to shake his hand. While they shook hands – Eric's was completely limp – he simply gaped at her, expressionless. Bella chuckled as he continued to stand still, his eyes starting to flicker between Rose and Bella.

"You," he whispered in astonishment. "It's really you."

Bella smiled timidly. "Pretty much."

Eric inhaled, but as he remained otherwise motionless, Bella placed a relieved hand above her heart. An unexpected moment later, he fell on his knees and tightly hugged Bella's stomach.

"My prayers have been answered."

His voice cracked.

Rosalie tried to suppress her laughter, but the situation was one of the funniest she'd ever witnessed, so her amusement got the best of her and she clutched her stomach, letting out a booming laugh, one that Emmett would've been proud of. She noticed that Bella had flushed furiously and laughed harder.

Bella awkwardly patted Eric's head. "Uh… Nice to meet you too, Eric."

"Oh my God." His voice pitched an octave. "You know my name. I love you."

Bella wanted to hide herself in a closet and never come out, she felt so embarrassed. "Um, thank you."

Rosalie had finally stopped laughing when Eric loosened her grip on Bella. She felt relieved to breathe properly. Eric stood up, staring at her as Emmett and Edward appeared on the doorstep, the former looking amused-worried and the latter completely perplexed.

"How are you –? Why are you –?" Eric started, but shook his head. "Isabella, you're a goddess."

Bella opened her mouth to reply, but abruptly closed it as she noticed the two men behind Eric's back. Unaware of how much Edward had seen, Bella had a mild panic attack when she locked eyes with him.

"Thank you," she repeated, stepping back from the boy, but not withdrawing her eyes from Edward's. There was an awkward silence, one which included Edward's confused stare, Emmett's obvious amusement and Bella's mortification. A stunned Eric wouldn't stop ogling at the actress.

"So," Rosalie interrupted, wanting to rescue Bella from the stare-down. "Why don't you boys go and clean up before dinner? Eric, please bring a few cucumbers from the greenhouse."

Eric did a little bow-like motion with his upper body before he fumbled and stepped out of the kitchen, still unsure as to how Isabella happened to be in their kitchen. Emmett shrugged off the odd situation and went to make sure his pregnant wife was feeling well. He subtly eyed Edward, who stood in the doorway.

Edward frowned. Sure, Bella was subtly beautiful – but a goddess? He stared at her, paying close attention to the woman before him: she'd gained a few pounds, but she was still too thin, almost painfully so. A few lost strands of hair rested on her cheeks, her wide eyes frightened, her mouth slightly opened and hands searching for a place to rest. A flush covered her cheeks and while Edward thought she looked adorable, he still couldn't see how Eric could make such a compliment to a woman he met mere minutes ago.

Unless he knew her.

Edward winced and, as he did so often when he was frustrated or embarrassed, rubbed his neck.

Did Eric know Bella? The thought disturbed him. Eric was seventeen, obviously in the middle of stepping out of the shoes of a teenager and into the shoes of a man, but his bold behaviour toward her puzzled Edward. He must've been missing something.

He asked, "Do you know Eric?"

"What?"

"What?"

Rosalie and Bella replied at the same moment and shared a meaningful look, if only for a fragment of a second.

"Uh, no," Bella denied, swallowing. "No." She knew she was unprepared to anything that might or might not be revealed during the evening, but Bella hoped for the best, especially now that Rosalie somewhat supported her.

Emmett carefully eyed them, pecked Rosalie's lips and left the kitchen to speak to Eric. But while he'd assured Isabella that he'd explain Edward's unawareness, Emmett knew that if Eric didn't want to co-operate, he wouldn't force him play along with the farce. He liked the actress, but felt wary of her intentions with his little brother. The thought of them together just seemed so unlikely, and it didn't take much to figure out who would get hurt if anything went wrong.

Rosalie snapped her finger to get Edward out of his thoughts. "Dinner'll be ready in twenty minutes. Could you go and tell Matthew and Grace?"

Giving one final glance in Bella's direction, Edward smiled warily. "Sure."

A second after he'd left, Bella clutched the counter and sighed. "He's not far from figuring it out."

Rosalie felt only mildly worried. "He'll be too far gone by the time your occupation becomes an issue."

Bella smiled a little apprehensively. "I hope you're right."

They laid the table. Rosalie smelled the carefully prepared lasagne as she placed it in the middle of the table, and convinced Bella to sit next to Eric and across from Edward, just in case Eric would start declaring his eternal love for her. (And because the predicament would probably amuse Rosalie.) Bella argued at first, but complied when Rose mentioned the possibility of truth being (intentionally or unintentionally) uncovered by Eric.

As people arrived, Rosalie introduced Bella to Eric's granny. Grace was a short chubby woman with white hair, encouraging smile and the eyes of an eagle. The old lady looked up at her with open curiosity, her soft voice sounding surprisingly firm, but not unkind. "You're Edward's lady, aren't you?"

Bella thought she felt Edward's eyes on her back and a gap in Emmett's conversation with his brother, but she chose not to react to it. "Oh, no, I'm just a visitor."

"Pity," the woman said, searching for Edward with her eyes. She smiled at him and sat down. "What is it that you do?"

"I, uh," Bella stammered, taking a seat in between Rosalie and Eric. She should've expected the obvious questions – where are you from and what do you do? But she had to admit she had little in her mind focused on lying. She hated hiding. Bella settled for a partial truth – her words weren't a lie, she just drew Grace's attention to one aspect of her life. "I graduated from Otis College of Art and Design with a BA in Fine Arts a few weeks ago."

"An artist." Grace smiled kindly, eyes darting to Emmett and Edward, who were having a heated conversation. "Much like Esme."

Bella opened her mouth to protest, but found herself unable to argue. She couldn't. Just like she suddenly could not understand why she was so surprised that Edward did not to know who she was. How could she assume that everyone knew her? Matthew and Grace were just as unaware of her occupation as Edward, but somehow, their obliviousness affected her much less.

Not everyone lived in front of the television.

The thought made Bella smile, and as she poured herself some water, she caught Edward's eyes on her. She offered him a shy smile before continuing her conversation with Grace.

The dinner was a pleasant mixture of insignificant arguments (Grace and Rosalie fought over whose vajunka recipe was better), new tastes – Bella couldn't imagine how one could enjoy eating rocky mountain oysters – and persuasion: Matthew attempted to convince Emmett that prairie dog shooting was a sport.

Bella didn't understand much of it, but the familiarity and laughter made her feel much more at home than she'd ever felt in her unnecessarily enormous house that she shared with her brother. There was something new yet comfortable about the exchanges, teasing and conversations. She felt at home.

Rosalie quickly noticed that she wasn't the only one not drinking beer. She openly looked at Bella's (flat) stomach. "Isabella, you're not… are you?"

Bella flushed. "One would have to have engage in certain activities to become pregnant."

"But why aren't you drinking?"

"I don't drink."

"At all?"

"At all."

"Huh," Rosalie muttered, amused. "So, the FHM number one sexiest woman of 2010 is a virgin who's never taken a sip of alcohol?"

Bella choked on her water, gaining the attention of all eaters. Eric patted her on the back (receiving a glare from a pair of green eyes), and as the others engaged in conversation after making sure she was alright, Bella leaned closer to Rose. With her face still flushed, she mused, "Disappointed?"

"Surprised."

"I'm sorry," Bella apologised. "There's very little in me that agrees with my image."

"That's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"But it's a gap big enough for people to notice it."

Rosalie sipped her water. "I can't see why that's a bad thing. You can't be everything they say."

"I'm not trying to be everything they say. It's what they don't say that defines me."

Rosalie paused to eye her, raised a fork and pointed at Bella with it. "I like you, Isabella. You better make Edward crazy about you or I'll beat the love into his heart."

A mention of his name made Edward snap his head up. "What about me?"

"Ah, nothing much." Rosalie smirked. "Just convincing Isabella to marry you."

Bella did not only choke on her tiramisu, she also felt an embarrassingly dark blush cover her face. "Rose!"

The pregnant woman cocked her head toward the actress, whispering, "Though I don't think I have anything left to do."

"Rose!"

Rosalie happily ate her second piece of tiramisu. It might've been the fact that she'd never felt how it would be like to have a sister, but she loved teasing the actress. She meant no harm, it was just amusing how they both reacted.

Edward felt conflicted. He understood that Bella had avoided him the entire day, and while the reason seemed pretty obvious – his embarrassing actions yesterday evening – he couldn't bring himself to regret. And while Edward hadn't expected Bella to get along with his family so well, he didn't know why Bella's charm surprised him so much. She easily fit in and seemed to enjoy his family's company.

He couldn't help but adore her.

Edward wasn't sure why Rosalie insisted on calling her Isabella – her nickname was much shorter and more comfortable. But he dismissed the question as insignificant. He occasionally eyed Bella and received a few heart-warming smiles in return, but he couldn't deny that Eric's proximity to Bella made him feel uneasy.

Eric had kept uncharacteristically quiet. He felt not only embarrassed for the way he behaved when he first saw the actress, but for his annoyingly cracking voice. So he chose to admire the goddess from afar.

Or – since he had the rare chance to sit right next to her – not that far after all. Eric's attention to the actress had nothing to do with actual love for the woman. He didn't even know her. But he did love her acting, films, posters, interviews and everything in between. Eric desperately wanted to talk to her, but hadn't gathered up enough courage to actually do so.

It was so unreal to be sitting next to Isabella. He still couldn't figure out how she was in Wyoming, eating dinner with them. No-one really explained her presence.

The actress would occasionally offer Eric a shy, assuring smile before continuing to talk with Rosalie or Grace. The table was large enough for people to engage in private conversations without having to speak too silently, but Eric still overheard the actress' talk with Rosalie. He eyed Edward, remembering that – according to Emmett – Edward didn't know about her.

How could he not?

Not that Eric minded, because as far as he'd witnessed, Edward had quite a thing for Bella, and if it happened to develop into something more, Eric might have the chance to get to know his favourite actor. How many people had that chance?

"I don't believe I remember asking where you're from, Bella," Eric's grandfather asked, gripping his left had with his right to keep it from quivering. He released it after a moment.

"Los Angeles," Edward replied for Bella.

Matthew smiled in recognition. "Ah, that's where Jasper's staying."

Confused, Bella looked at the faces before her and asked, "Jasper?"

"Rose's brother," Emmett answered. "He's a manager of some advertisin' company and that means he's travellin' quite a bit. He was born in Texas, but moved here when he was fifteen."

Bella eyed Rose. "You're from Texas?"

Rosalie shook her head. "Jasper's adopted. My mother had about as many problems trying to have a second child as I do with my first one."

"I'm sorry." Bella lowered her voice. "I didn't know."

Rose shrugged, smiling faintly. "C'est la vie."

They spoke of lighter topics after that, and even with their stomachs full, most were reluctant to leave the table. That's why, when it was time to go and see if Emmett's friend had arrived, Bella offered herself.

Eric excused himself as he saw a chance to apologise for his behaviour. It would be awkward and he was most likely to embarrass himself again, but Eric felt it was necessary. So he followed her.

Edward noticed.

The wind had strengthened, blowing hair into Bella's eyes when she descended from the stairs of the terrace. The yard was empty with the exception of Tyler, who ate burnt grass next to the house, and a snoring black dog of uncertain breed, who slept in front of his new doghouse. Bella wasn't in a hurry to join the dinner and decided to sit on the old swing, which was nailed to the floor of the terrace because of the constant wind. She jumped a little when Eric approached her.

"I'm sorry." Eric's voice cracked. He was mortified. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," Bella assured, slightly embarrassed. "You know what they say."

Eric shook his head.

"People who are easily scared are they ones with the most secrets," she said, amused. Bella noticed his reluctance to join her, so she smiled and motioned next to her. Eric sat down. "You don't mind?"

"Not at all."

Eric fidgeted with his lanky arms as he carefully looked at the actress. "I just thought I should apologise for the way I acted earlier. I must've embarrassed you. And definitely myself."

Bella chuckled. "It's okay. I'm sure you weren't expecting me."

"You can say that again," he agreed vehemently. "My friends are never gonna believe me when I tell them I met _the_ Isabella Swan."

"Would you like an autograph to prove it?" Bella teased, smiling.

"Oh my God." Eric jumped up. "I'll be right back!"

He ran into the house and not even a minute had passed when he returned, hyperventilating. Bella had brought her legs under her to wrap her arms around them. She was slightly flushed.

"Eric, I was only kidding."

"I'm not," he replied, sliding the white paper and blue pen in her hands. Bella snickered as she accepted them and scribbled down an amusing dedication. Her handwriting was anything but tidy, but it was specific and therefore, recognisable and hardly imitable.

"I'll frame it." Eric beamed. "But I must say, you're not at all how I expected you to be." For once, his voice didn't crack.

"Imperfect?" she asked timidly, already knowing the answer.

"That too," he agreed, but rushed to explain. "Not in a bad way, though. You're just more… real, I guess. Much more down to earth than I expected. But you're brilliant actor. I was so certain you'd win an Oscar for your performance in _Alone_."

A familiar blush crept on her cheeks. "Thank you, Eric. That means a lot."

A comfortable silence fell on them before Eric wanted to know more about her work – there wasn't a more perfect way of getting information about it than asking her directly. And Bella found herself re-discovering why she loved her job.

"Do you still have the scar you got from filming _Jealous_ _Vigilance_?" Eric questioned, eyeing her left ear. Bella huffed amusedly when she tilted her head forward and brushed her hair aside. Eric leaned closer to her head. "Wow, that's so cool. How many stitches did you have?"

He traced the trail of the scar in sincere wonder.

"Bella, Rosalie wanted to know if– …oh." Edward halted to a stop. He inhaled a shaky breath. Bella immediately withdrew her body from Eric's proximity. Edward averted his eyes.

"Am I, uh, interrupting? I'll just…" He lowered his eyes, turned around and entered the house.

Edward wanted to punch the wall.

Scared, Bella jumped up from the swing and rushed after him. She fumbled on the doorstep and, much to her mortification, fell straight into the wall. Edward helped her get up and made sure she was all right before he started to walk away.

He had no right to feel betrayed, but he did.

Bella gripped his wrist to make him look at her, but as he flinched, she let go and placed her hand on her mouth. "I'm so sorry…"

Edward locked eyes with her and she faltered back from the despair in his eyes.

"You're free to do whatever you want," he whispered, clenching his fist. He wanted to hit something to cause as much physical pain to himself as he could, but suppressed the urge. What had he been expecting?

Not this, obviously.

"Stay here. Just – stay here for a moment."

Edward shut his eyes and tightened his fists, almost enjoying the burn in his wrist as he shook his head. "Why?"

Bella simply shove the door open with her foot and peeked outside. "Eric, could you give us a sec?"

"Sure," he shrugged, smiling at Edward when he entered the house.

Bella motioned outside and gently tugged Edward's sleeve. "Come on, I want to talk to you."

Certain that he'd hit the wall if he moved, Edward remained motionless. "There's nothing to talk about."

"There is," she insisted, wanting to hear the anger he seemed to be so ready to hide. "Please just listen me out. You can slap me or whatever you like to do afterwards."

Edward narrowed his eyes. "I don't use physical violence on women, Bella."

She swallowed, wondering how to deal with his misjudgement as she took a tiny step forward. Edward backtracked, his eyes alarmed. Bella faltered and took another step, but as Edward realised he couldn't deal with this without being blatantly obvious, he turned about.

"Please."

"It's nothing." Edward shove an anxious hand through his hair, rounded the corner and glanced back. "Don't worry about it."

Bella quietly caught up with him and tugged his sleeve again. Not needing the family in the kitchen to overhear, she muttered, "Please. It won't take long."

Edward stared down at her nervous brown eyes, contemplating and unsure. There was nothing more desirable than to escape, but could he really avoid a week filled with awkwardness and despair if he did? He'd have no other choice but to face her eventually. With a grim expression, Edward tilted his head and motioned at the door, but ignored her attempts to lock eyes with him and the gentle grip on his forearm.

Bella didn't let go of his hand when they exited the house. The sudden cool air came as a relief to Edward and he stepped at the end of the terrace, eyeing the sky. Bella shrivelled by his side. He took a moment to gauge her reaction, unzipped his jacket and placed it on her shoulders without an explanation.

"Thank you."

Edward nodded somberly and tugged his hair, not moving his eyes from the sky.

Bella clutched the jacket closer to her, her eyes not leaving Edward's face. "Nothing happened."

"You don't owe me an explanation," he responded sceptically.

"But it's the truth!" she argued vehemently, deciding that bluntness was inevitable. "I'm sorry it was awkward, but Eric saw that I had a scar behind my left ear and I showed it to him. That's it."

Edward's expression didn't change.

Bella leaned forward, brushing her hair aside. "See?" She cocked her head back to eye his profile and noticed the sarcastic glance given in her way. "Eric is four years younger than me, four years. Even if he weren't a minor…" Bella shook her head. "There's no way."

"Of course," Edward mumbled with newfound bitterness. He was so angry with himself.

Bella's head snapped up. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Her perseverance to prove that nothing had happened relieved him as he saw the truthfulness behind her words, but it also disappointed him and Edward failed to snap out of his somber mood when Bella made comments that stung so deeply.

"The man worthy of you would probably have to be filthy rich, own a Ferrari and create this wounded and mysterious persona to fill his ungrounded beliefs of what his appearance makes him."

Bella fiddled with her thumbs, staring at her hands as she whispered, "Is that really what you think of me?"

"No, that's what I think you're looking for."

She felt sick. "You're wrong. I only said that because I'm interested in someone other than Eric."

Her bold words met with silence. If anything, Bella expected Edward to get the hint, but his face only scrunched up in obvious distaste. "I'm happy for you then."

"I can tell," she couldn't help but snap, starting to get angry at his obliviousness. Did he not care to pay attention or was he so self-deprecating he wouldn't let himself believe her interest? Or was he sincerely unaware of it? She didn't know, but it exasperated her. "And don't you think you're being a little hypocritical – wounded and mysterious? 'Cause you explaining your scars obviously erases that trait."

Edward fisted his hand and hit the railing. "I fucking killed my own father, is that what you wanna hear? He died in 2001, I got the scar when I was fifteen, I was born in '86, why don't you do the math?"

"I..."

"Fuck." Edward shove his freshly bruised hand through his hair. "I'm not trying to be mysterious, I just wanted to save you from my shit."

He rubbed his face, trying to steady his breathing and calm down as he eyed her scared eyes. He winced.

The door opened and a nervous Eric peeked outside. "Is everything alright? We heard yelling..."

"Uh, sure," Bella stammered, offering Eric an uneasy smile. "We just had an argument. We'll be there in ten, okay?"

Eric cast a glance at Edward before entering the house. Edward was too angry at himself to question her words and decided to sit on top of the stairs. Bella hesitated before he motioned for her to join him. He attempted a smile, but his features refused to form anything other than a grimace. He'd gone too far. It was one thing to accuse her of making the wrong choices – clearly explained by his jealousy – but it was completely different to yell at her for situations she knew nothing about.

Bella wrapped her arms around her knees, regretting her presumptuous assumptions. Edward eyed her, understanding that his words must've freaked her out. He stretched his hand and grimaced, knowing that he needed to learn how to stop losing control of his emotions so often, especially around her.

"I – I'm sorry. I know I have a temper, but didn't mean to scare you."

She nodded, eyeing her tattered fingernails. "It's okay. I didn't know..."

"But it isn't." He shut his eyes for a moment, sighing. "I shouldn't live myself out on you like that."

"It would be worse to keep it in, so consider me your therapy," she replied calmly. They sat in silence, and as Edward didn't want to address the issue or elaborate on his words, he grasped the railing to stand, but Bella placed her hand on his before he could. She shifted and sat closer to him to hug him.

Encouraged by her actions, Edward slowly – offering her time to withdraw – slid his hands around her waist, placed his nose in her hair and inhaled. Bella rested her head in the crook of his neck, listening to his quick heartbeat. She hummed an unintelligible sound.

Edward lowered his head and whispered, "Am I forgiven?"

She nodded. "But I don't like jealous men. They're too possessive."

"I'm sorry. I can't help it."

"You're a lot like Alice in a way. She's afraid that –" Bella stopped herself before she could voice 'being a star starts to get to me'. Edward eyed her curiously.

"Afraid of what?"

Bella shifted uncomfortably, wanting to be honest with him, but knowing now wasn't the time. "She just jumps to conclusions easily, a lot like you do. When you yell at me, I'd like it to be with a reason."

"You're talking like it's a foregone conclusion for me to yell at you again." He sighed, absent-mindedly holding her in his arms. After a moment of silence, Edward chuckled softly when he remembered Bella's comparison. "But what does this have to do with your man-friend? Do you mean the time when she –"

"Yes," Bella flushed when she noticed his amused eyes on her face. "I know you heard her, but please don't say anything."

"Why not?" he asked, clearly finding the conversation humorous. It also provided a way of distracting her from his previous words.

"It's embarrassing."

"_Life_ is embarrassing. The only time it isn't is when it's impersonal."

"And you want personal? You've already seen me without clothes, how much more personal can you get?"

_Very,_ Edward wanted to reply, but didn't. Instead, he laughed and awkwardly rubbed his neck. He was grateful Bella wasn't looking at his slightly blushing face. "I haven't, actually. I just wanted to see your reaction."

Bella withdrew a little before nudging him. "That's just cruel."

She didn't feel angry, she was simply surprised.

"I'm sorry." Edward had the decency to feel embarrassed by his actions. But he hadn't thought that Bella would actually believe he'd seen her naked – if there was anything _unlike_ Edward, it was invading privacy. He didn't like to do it and avoided having to do it as much as he could.

Edward realised they had a long way to go before getting to know one another.

The sun had set behind the mountains by the time a truck with a loud horse trailer pulled up in front of the house. Bella and Edward hadn't gone inside in spite of her words – she felt far too comfortable in his arms to move.

Edward shrugged before unwrapping his arms from around Bella, feeling awkward after their proximity, and stood up. Bella shivered as she stood just beside him. Their eyes locked and Bella offered him a shy smile as the actress decided she should initiate something. He obviously wasn't going to be much help.

She placed her tiny hand in his cold one and intertwined their fingers. Edward's rough hand was so large next to hers, and she smiled at the sight before locking eyes with him.

He was grimacing.

Disappointed, Bella immediately backed away. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to... I'm sorry."

She sounded like she might start to cry.

Edward simply stared at her horrified expression, the understanding dawning on him. Did Bella just try to hold his hand? He rubbed his wrist and walked around Bella, who was staring at her shoes intensely enough to be expecting them to explode in front of her eyes. Hesitating, Edward gently cupped her yaw to see her eyes as he intertwined their fingers once again.

"The right one. It hurts less."

Bella frowned at his shy expression before she understood the reason for his grimace. She exhaled and smiled up at him before they started to approach Tyler's purchaser.

* * *

**A/N:** There is a colour-blind artist Neil Harbisson who learned to paint in colours with the help of a device which converts 360 colours into sounds. Bella's visual impediment will also be approached in later chapters.

A little bit of information about red-green colour-blindness: www (DOT) vischeck (DOT) com/daltonize/

I'll probably update when I've moved to the other side of the Atlantic Ocean! I'm incredibly excited.


	6. Lost in the Darkness

**Disclaimer**: The Twilight Saga is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

**A/N:** I discovered a funny plot hole: when Bella and Edward are using hoof shears, the explanation given is how you trim a goat's hoof. *laughs* This error is coming from a girl who helped her granny milk goats. Sadly, my granny can no longer keep them. (If you're an expert on how to properly trim a _horse_'s hoof, feel free to yell at me before gracing me with your equine knowledge! :D)

I am incredibly sorry for the delay. I have no excuse. I'm also concerned about my beta for this story – I can't find her. Cascsiany, if you're still alive, please let me know? I'm worried. Thank you. :)  
(EDIT: I'm happy to say cascsiany is alive and well! Special thanks to her for finding the time to beta this chapter!)

On to the unbelievable cheese.

* * *

**A Cry for the Moon  
**by Merevaik

**Chapter 6: "It's me."**

The man shut the door of his truck. He had a few strands of grey hair in his otherwise dark hair, a modestly tall build with a sizable paunch and strong glasses sitting on his straight nose. He gripped his belt and lifted the bleached jeans in a way that made it obvious the action had become habitual. He approached them and smiled before holding out his hand.

"Hi, how are you?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "I'm here for the horse." He waved unnecessarily toward the dirty iForWilliams horsebox. Bella smiled politely as she let go of Edward's hand so that Edward could greet the man. Edward introduced Bella to the horse dealer. Gary Banner tilted his head to the side in a way that made Bella certain that he either recognised her or found her face familiar, but Bella breathed a sigh of relief when he said nothing and turned his attention to Tyler. "This one?"

Edward nodded, smiling apologetically at Bella before they retreated. Bella decided to wrap the large jacket around herself and sit back on the stairs, watching their conversation from afar. Every new encounter could easily uncover her occupation and she knew her current luck would eventually fade. She had to tell Edward the first chance she got, or at least before someone else did it for her. Bella realised her biggest fear was that Edward would find out her occupation from someone else, and yet she hadn't prevented that situation. But considering that they'd be going to Jackson Hole on Thursday evening, she should probably gather her guts before that and tell him. Why was she so afraid? If Emmett was right, Edward would freak out, and if Rosalie was right, he wouldn't make a big deal out of it, but only on the off-chance that he liked her. But now that Bella thought of it, why was she so worked up over this? Edward was just another guy.

Except that he wasn't. He lived in a valley, spent most of his time with himself, worked like no-one else Bella had seen - true to his word, Bella had never seen Edward complain about being bored - and he just owned this genuineness about him that amazed Bella. He spoke his mind, but rarely initiated a discussion of a personal issue as if boundaries were sacred. Bella had spent so much time with Alice (whose boundaries were as clear as her favourite M. Graham's watercolours mixed in a can of water) that it felt odd not to be under relentless questioning. She wished she could count on Edward's friendship if she didn't have the heart to take it further. But she'd made the decision of leading Edward on less subtly - perhaps he'd catch on and stop being so recluse, if only for a moment, just so she could know for sure if she had a chance or not.

Emmett jumped down the steps and joined Gary and Edward, former of whom was gesturing animatedly. Bella rested her elbows on her knees, eyeing the men, and jumped as a hand was placed on her shoulder.

"Isabella?"

Bella exhaled, tilted her head back and stared at Rosalie's blue eyes. "Bella."

"No." She chuckled. "It's Rose."

Bella smiled, stood up and wiped her bottom clean of the sand. They both laid their eyes on the men in silence before Rosalie motioned toward the house. "C'mon, I wanna show you something."

Curious, Bella followed her into the house. Eric, Grace and Matthew were still sitting around the kitchen table that was now covered with dirty dishes and a stained tablecloth. They stopped their conversation, looked over, and Grace raised her eyebrows at Bella. "We heard you arguing, did you make up?" Her voice proved her kindness and concern, but there was a firm I-will-fix-it-if-you-didn't undertone in her voice.

At first, Bella heard 'make out', and blushed as she realised her mistake. "Yes, we're, uh, okay."

"We saw them holding hands, why wouldn't they be?" Matthew shrugged, taking a sip of Snake River Zonker Stout. He casually offered the brew to Eric, who accepted it and took a few gulps. The casualty of the action made Bella's eyes widen, but Rosalie tapped on her shoulder and motioned toward the hallway. Bella silently followed Rosalie, who was holding on to her stomach with one hand.

"Why the long face?" asked Rosalie when her eyes landed on Bella.

"Isn't Eric underage?"

Rosalie opened a door and motioned for Bella to descend downstairs before she nodded. "So?"

"Why would Matthew offer him a drink?"

Rosalie nearly snorted at the naïvite of the girl. "Seriously? Isabella, this is Wyoming. We probably hold booze in our hands before water. I imagine Matthew would rather see Eric drink in front of him than behind him. No big deal."

"But he's young."

This time, Rosalie really did roll her eyes. "Don't tell me you can't remember when you –" she stopped and answered herself. "Right. You don't. Your parents must've been awfully lawful."

Bella decided not to comment. She waited until Rosalie carefully descended from of the stairs and switched on extra lights. They stood in a small basement, almost a cubby hole. There were stacks of paper, logs, a few open toolboxes and – a smile streched across Bella's lips – big canvases under an old scratched table. Rosalie shrugged.

"I saw you staring at the paintings in the house, so I figured maybe you'd like to see those. About half of them are empty, but the other half should be copies of famous paintings. I'm pretty sure you know more about that than I do," explained Rosalie as she eyed Bella, who had crouched to see the canvases better.

"Can I take them out?" asked Bella eagerly.

Rosalie found a chair and sat down. "I'd be pretty disappointed if you didn't."

Bella sat on the cold stone floor, crossed her legs and took out the paintings one-by-one. She observed the paintings and recognised most authors from Millet and van Gogh to Munch and Kahl. She held on to Frank Auerbach's portrait of _Joe Tilson_ a little longer; she had always liked black-and-white pictures better than coloured ones. _Joe Tilson_ was originally an etching, but the charcoal imitation wasn't bad; the copies were admirable. Some paintings she did not recognise.

"Esme only signed her own work. The copies have a cross on the other side," said Rosalie and looked down at her as Bella became immersed in thought. Painting had always fascinated and annoyed her. She knew she could never see Millet in its fullest, to her, the paintings consisted of vague brown fields with vaguely brown people. But she learned to appreciate the art, even the paintings that she found unappealing.

"Is there a pattern to her copies?"

"I dunno, I've never really looked at them that way. Are they any good?"

Bella hummed and nodded. "Have you thought of selling them?"

"I have… but we can't. They're too valuable to Emmett and Edward."

"So you keep them in the basement."

"Have you seen our corridors?" Rosalie raised her eyebrows. "There's nothing but art. Every inch of this damn house is covered in art." She paused and gently caressed her stomach. "I want you to have them."

"I – seriously?"

"No, I'm still being funny."

Bella looked at the painting in her lap, raised her eyes, and looked back down. "But, Edward and Emmett might not agree. And you said you weren't selling them. And I have no place to put them. And I couldn't… they're important to you."

"That's not exactly a no."

Bella shifted, hesitating. "It's a tempting offer. But I couldn't. I can't."

Rosalie attempted to win the friendly stare-down they had, but Bella didn't buckle.

"We can arrange something to send them to LA," suggested Rosalie. "They're only gathering dust here."

The actress fell silent, placed the paintings back to where she took them, and stood up, her eyes still lingering on the paintings. "I–I'm flattered, I really am. But I can't take such a big part of your life away from you. It's Edward's mom. Emmett's mom. Edward's going to build a house, he'll have more than enough room for the paintings." She tore her eyes away from the paintings and offered a hand to help Rose stand. "Thanks for showing them to me, they're beautiful. I appreciate the gesture. But I can't."

Rosalie pursed her lips in distaste, too tired to negotiate. "How about this, you choose one to take it with you, and convince Edward to display the others?"

"He needs convincing?"

"Yes." She inhaled before standing up. "Now, which one do you want?"

.-*-.-*-.

Bella's fingers were clutching the light copy of Auerbach's black-and-white painting as she exited the two-storied house with a smile. It had gotten dark and the air felt colder than before. She spotted Edward and Emmett who were still having negotiations with Gary Banner. Bella crossed her arms and walked next to them.

"Yeah, but show me an animal who doesn't defend itself when being threatened," uttered Emmett, nodding at Bella before turning his attention back to Gary. The graceful Tyler kept chewing the burnt grass and ignoring them. Bella kept a safe distance from him.

"True, quite true," answered Gary Banner absent-mindedly, walking around the horse. "Any other vices?"

"No, trained and healthy. Un-gelded, as you must know."

"Temperamental," he concluded. "How old?"

"Three and a half."

"Prospects. Green broke?"

"Well broke," corrected Edward. "Do you wanna try?"

Gary Banner stepped around the horse, but shook his head. "No, I don't think that's necessary." He straightened his back, lifted his jeans and shook all of their hands. "So, we'll discuss details on Thursday at five? Pleasure doing business with you."

"Likewise."

Tyler was blandished to the horsebox. Gary Banner made sure the connection between the iForWilliams horsebox and his old Dodge Ram was secure and waved modestly before starting his car and backing away from the Little Valley. Bella shivered. Emmett walked to the barn while Edward stepped next to Bella. Neither of them said a word. They stood in comfortable silence under the starlight before Emmett returned with a strong dark horse. Bella took a faltering step back from the giant horse.

"This one's Ben. I think he slept through the whole day, he's well-rested to carry the both of you."

Edward nodded at his brother and motioned for Bella to hop onto the horse. She shook her head and motioned toward the house, explaining, "I'd like to say goodbye to the others. Is that okay?"

Edward nodded. Together they entered the house and bid goodbye to the Yorkies and a sleepy-looking Rosalie. "The next time you see me, there will probably be two of me," joked Rosalie sleepily, but her eyes were worried.

"It'll be okay," assured Bella, hugging her gently. "You're strong."

"Thank you, Isabella." Rosalie pulled back and muttered, "And don't break his heart, okay?"

In spite of herself, Bella's face flushed and she gave Rosalie a vague response. She wished she wouldn't. The actress waved and smiled at them. "It's been a pleasure meeting you all."

Eric beamed a grin, but others assured the same. Half a minute later, Edward and Bella exited the house and walked to the giant horse. Emmett, who had put on Edward's saddle and pouch with his gun, was waiting for them. He, too, seemed tired from the day.

"Ready?" he inquired.

Bella smiled politely, but didn't answer; Edward patted his brother on the back. "It'll be alright."

Emmett nodded silently, eyeing Bella as he stepped closer and offered her a hug. "For your own sake, I hope the humbuggery ends soon. You're gonna hurt him."

"I'll tell him."

"Before Thursday?"

"Eventually."

Emmett sighed. He hadn't felt like himself lately, and Edward noticed how much broodier his usually joking brother had become. Emmett was more worried about Rose than he let on.

He stepped back and took a breath. "I'm not sure I'll make it on Thursday. It depends."

"It's cool. Don't worry about it."

The brothers shared a few words as Bella fearfully eyed the giant horse. She didn't have enough time to voice her fears before Edward casually lifted her on Ben and followed shortly. Emmett entered the house, leaving them in silence under the stars. The air was cold and dry, the dark mountains loomed in the distance and the height of the horse intimidated Bella. Ben was higher than Tyler.

"Ready?" asked Edward, tightening Bella's small arms around him. Bella hummed in agreement, leaning her head back to catch a glimpse of the stars. The horse started to retreat from the valley and paced toward the river.

"Wait for us to get out of the lights of Little Valley. That's when you won't believe how beautiful this place can be."

"I've never thought it's ugly."

Edward smiled in the darkness and guided the horse across the gravel road onto a small path next to the river. Had it been light enough, Bella would have seen a 'DANGER: Proceed at Own Risk' sign dangling on a red-and-white chain which they dodged. But she held her head back to gaze at the endless swirl of twinkling stars. It was beautiful. After a few minutes of silence, she observed her surroundings and understood the path they took now didn't coincide with the one they'd taken the day before.

"Edward, why're we going this way?"

He turned his head. "It's a shortcut. We won't have to climb as high and we'll get home sooner."

They listened to the silence as the trees grew closer together and made their path darker.

"Are you sure we won't get lost? It's pretty dark." Her eyes followed the smallest of noise and crack she heard from the forest surrounding them.

Edward chuckled. "I've lived here for my entire life. That won't be a problem. Don't worry, honestly."

She hummed, not entirely convinced. It wasn't that she didn't trust Edward, she just wasn't used to being in a dark forest with barely any humans around. She shuddered and tightened her hold around Edward.

"Scared?" asked Edward, but not without enjoying her familiar deathly grip around him.

"No, I'm just cold."

He smiled. "Whatever you say."

As a kid, Edward too had always assured his father that he wasn't the slightest bit frightened. It offered him a sense of comfort to see the pride in his father's eyes. In hindsight, Carlisle had probably understood Edward's continuous talking wasn't so much driven by the need to chat as to make a noise, any noise. The little boy had thought it would scare away all the wolves; thus, in the dark, he often spoke loudly and without choosing content.

"Edward, may I ask you something?"

"You already did."

She was still a little spooked by the forest. "Other than that."

"Of course. You don't have to have my permission to ask."

"I know your mother was a painter, but what did your father do?"

He instinctively turned his eyes toward the river before answering. "He learned to become a Chemistry teacher, but mostly worked as a blacksmith."

"What was he like?"

"Strict. Very much into nature and horses. Not very good with feelings, but still a great man. Straightforward. Kind of a role model for us, he was strong and talented and all those other things a child imagines in a perfect father." Edward paused and realised Bella's questions were probably driven by the same need to hear someone talking. He had no wish to elaborate, so he reciprocated. "What do your parents do?"

"My father's a manager, a bit of a director and producer too, but mostly a manager."

"Films?"

"Yeah."

"Having a father as a manager in LA, didn't that drive you toward the film industry?"

Bella's stomach did an unpleasant churn and she started to feel a little nauseated. She had felt far too tired to think of the subject of their discussion, yet now she was fully alert. Should Bella tell him right away? What if she did? What would he do?

"It did." She gulped.

"And yet, you chose to go to college instead of all that crap." He turned his head and smiled at her. "That's pretty admirable. I think you've come out of living in LA surprisingly wholesome." Still not used to giving compliments, his neck flushed a little.

All that registered in Bella's mind was: _All that crap_. If a moment ago Bella had thought of revealing him the truth, she now felt ill. Her palms got sweaty. "Um, thanks?"

"You're welcome," answered Edward. "What does your mother do?"

"She's… she's…" Bella couldn't finish the sentence. How do you tell someone your mother is willingly homeless?

Edward thought the worst from her stuttering. "I'm sorry, it's really not my place to pry."

"No, no. You're not." They'd spoken of her parents before, but focused more on their characters and upbringing than occupations. "She's… she used to be a kindergarten teacher."

Edward hesitated. He didn't want to start digging up any sad memories. "And now?"

Bella, too, hesitated, but for completely different reasons. "Honestly?"

He smiled. "Wouldn't expect anything less."

She nearly choked. Had he always been like this? It felt like everything he said emphasised the fact that she wasn't being completely honest with him.

"She's homeless, living in Seattle… if she's alive at all. I haven't heard from her for two years, so I'm not entirely sure."

He'd heard that Bella didn't have a good relationship with her mother, but this information still caught him off guard. "What happened?"

"Alcohol did," responded Bella calmly.

"Have you – have you tried to help her?"

"She doesn't want help. I don't feel comfortable forcing her to live a life I think is suitable for her. I wouldn't even know how to look for her." Bella fell silent, brooding on the memory of her failure to convince her mother to seek for help. So far, her attempts had faded in vain. "I guess you probably think I'm a bad daughter."

"No, of course not." Edward sighed. "It's just that, yours is probably alive, you know? How can you just… let go of her?"

There was no denying of the bitterness in her voice. "She had no problems letting go of us."

Edward didn't comment, and she understood that he didn't approve of her actions. He made it seem so simple, as if all she had to do was fly up there and put her mother into rehab. But how do you find a person who doesn't want to be found? How do you help a person who doesn't want to be helped? She could force her into an expensive rehabilitation centre, but then what? The biggest struggle to keep oneself clean started from when the point one exited the centre. No-one would be there to keep the woman away from temptation. But his thought planted a seed in Bella's mind.

Eager to change the subject, Bella asked, "What did all the horse-talk about green broke horses mean?"

They walked about ten feet from the small cliff. "Green broke means the horse is still learning to accept saddle, bridle and rider. Not broke is not trained at all. Buying horses is all about knowing how to interpret exaggerations, kind of like a shopping channel. If you don't know what you want, you mess it up pretty badly. When they say he loves trails, he'll hate arenas, when he's 'green broke,' he's probably not broke at all, when he's a 'man's horse,' you'll have to be a weight lifter to stop him. And when he's 'successfully shown,' it means no-one was killed during the one show he was taken to." He smiled. "It's a tricky –"

"Can you hear that?" Bella tensed.

Edward fell silent. The paced along the riverbank, listening to a low scrabble followed by silent breathing and a few cracking of dried branches. To their left was a seemingly endless ascending rock, and behind a few trees to their right was the same cliff, descending toward the river.

"Probably just a few wild animals above us," assured Edward.

Bella felt her heartbeat quicken. She didn't dare to look up. "No, listen more closely."

Edward stopped the horse. He felt Bella's frightened breath on his neck, turned his head, and registered a lower wailing above them. He cocked his head back, but couldn't see anything other than the color difference between the dark mountain and the starry sky. The wailing, however, got louder. A few loud whiny growls mixed in, and Edward felt goose bumps on his neck.

"Bella?" he whispered.

She clutched onto his back and nodded.

"Hold on."

He needn't have reminded her. They took off, galloping around the trees as the path neared the edge of the cliff. After a minute of rushing, Edward calmed the horse and they took a moment to listen. The raucous wailing seemed more distant. Bella breathed a sigh relief. Edward stared ahead as he inhaled.

"Can you lean back?" he muttered.

Frowning, Bella obliged, and Edward followed her actions. He carefully patted the horse's back, leaning further back; the horse stepped backwards. A few rocks plopped to the river under them.

"Edward, what're you –"

The horse faltered and they slid across her back before flying headfirst toward the river under them. Bella managed to change her position to fall with her feet first, and heard Edward's yelling, "Move away fro–"

She held her breath. A splash, a shock of incredible coldness and complete silence followed. Bella lost all sense of direction in the darkness and attempted to figure out where surface was. She chose to head toward a slightly lighter place, but after fifteen seconds of aimless strokes, Bella started to panic. She tore off the heavy jacket that held her down. She stopped kicking and looked around in despair. Her lungs hurt. The cold water felt like needles stinging every inch of her skin. Bella's foot grazed across something hard, and she flinched away in terror. But looking at her feet, she understood it must've been the bottom of the river. She landed, crouched and kicked off her body with all her strength.

_Come on._ Just when she felt she couldn't hold her breath any longer, her head hit the surface and she took a breath so deep her lungs hurt. She hyperventilated and saw a figure on the other side of the river.

"Edward?"

Her plea echoed back to her before a figure large enough to be the horse stumbled out of the water. As if to confirm her thought, Ben neighed plaintively.

"Edward?" she tried again, emptiness settling in her stomach. "EDWARD!"

She inhaled and entered the water. She'd been between the horse and Edward, which meant she had to look right from where she entered. But where did she enter? Bella wasn't sure. She could not see a thing under water, and Bella resurfaced thrice before she decided she needed a different tactic. But what?

"Edward?" yelled Bella. For the fourth time, she tiredly held her breath as she entered the river. She had gotten used to the coldness, now all she needed to do was to find Edward. What if the horse fell on him? Bella stroked nearly maniacally, hoping to adjust her eyes to the darkness. But they didn't and the darkness remained. The next time she resurfaced and gasped for breath, a concerned face appeared right in front of her.

"Bella!"

Just like her, he was hyperventilating.

"Edward," she sighed, wanting to hug him with all her force. "I've been searching high and low… I thought you had…"

He grimaced, spitting water. "No. Are you hurt?"

"No, are you?"

"Maybe, my leg…" He heard Bella inhale sharply, and quickly assured, "No, nothing serious, probably just broken. Let's get to the shore."

Edward on his back and Bella on her stomach, they swam to the shore. Bella stepped out of the water first.

"Can you help me a little?"

Edward leaned on her shoulder as he limped to the shore. There was no blood, and he started to suspect he'd simply dislodged his knee. He laid down, offering her his foot. "Push."

"What? I can't… why?"

He cringed. "Trust me. But don't linger."

She stared him down in the darkness, understanding his purpose. Without further ado, she nearly toppled over when she shoved her strength on his foot. A small crack was followed by Edward's roar before it fell silent. Edward crooked his knee a few times, stood up and leaned on the leg. The sharp pain had been replaced by a passing dull ache; nothing he considered serious.

He approached a scared-looking Bella, enveloping her into a tight hug. "Thank you. I'm so fucking glad I didn't get you killed. I feel like I searched for you for ever."

She held him tighter. "We must've missed each other when we were underwater."

They held each other for a minute before departing and sitting down to rest. Water dropped from their hair and clothes. Ben stood a few feet from them, letting out a rough neigh from time to time.

"I think I lost your jacket," said Bella, looking toward Edward. She only saw his silhouette. "I'm sorry. I just – it tore me down and I couldn't get anywhere with it."

He shook his head and huffed. "Jesus, Bella. You really think I care?"

"I don't know. I just feel bad, it wasn't mine. It was a good jacket."

Edward shifted himself closer to her and put his arm around her shoulder. "I can always buy myself a new jacket. Buying a new Bella can be more difficult."

She leaned toward him. "You think?"

"I haven't tried, though, so I'm not sure…"

Bella chuckled and nudged him. "Were you afraid of the wolves? I never thought you'd be afraid of anything."

"No."

"You were!" She snickered, suddenly seeing the hilarity of the situation. "I'm pretty sure you were."

He pretended to be offended. "I was not. I didn't want Ben to spook. It makes a difference to be around a healthy wolf and one that sounds like its hurt. A wounded animal is almost always a violent animal. We could go and make sure it's alright… we'd just have to leave Ben here."

"No!" she argued, mortified. "No. I'm not going back to–to the… wolves."

He smiled. "I don't think I'm the scared one."

"Not funny." She attempted to wriggle out of his grip, but he didn't let her go.

"But seriously," continued Edward, wishing he could see her expression. "Are you alright?"

"A little cold and more than a little wet, but I'm okay. Are you?"

"Not yet." He pulled Bella closer so that she was sitting on the dried grass between his legs and wrapped his arms around her. She was shivering, but a beaming smile covered her face. Whether his advances came from the darkness or the relief of not losing her, she loved it.

"Is this alright?" he asked tentatively. Bella didn't know which was more adorable, the fact that he asked or how insecure he sounded. She hummed an agreement, leaning back toward him. He smiled and placed his chin on her head.

"Did you know the path was a dead end?" mused Bella.

"Of course not, or we wouldn't have ended up in the river. It was just fine a month ago. A short part of the path used to go a few feet from the edge, and it's had a danger sign for as long as I remember, but the cliff has never actually crumbled. Until now."

He didn't expect her to burst into laughter.

"What's so funny?"

"I don't know. I guess I've just had an eventful holiday. Crashing a car, almost getting killed by a horse, falling off a cliff... and it's only been a week. I can see why you're not bored."

He smiled. "What can I say? I did employ a few spies to get you killed. You keep surviving, that's the problem."

She chuckled. "You know, I never realised how macho you are."

"A macho?"

"All your talk about 'oh, it's just a broken leg, nevermind'? It's okay to admit you feel pain."

"Would you have felt better if I had screamed my lungs out?"

"At least I wouldn't have had a problem finding you," reasoned Bella. "How could I have missed you? I went underwater four times."

"You did? I went twice. But I was under for several minutes because I was convinced Ben had fallen on you."

They sat for a while, enjoying each other's company and watching the moonrise. Edward rubbed Bella's hands to warm them, but they were both so wet and cold that it had no effect whatsoever. Just as the moon had risen and offered a dim light to their surroundings, Bella's stomach growled.

"We sound probably get going," said Edward, but made no attempt to get up.

She shivered. "I don't really want to."

"Me neither. But we need to get you home before you catch pneumonia." He reluctantly removed his cold hands from around her and offered her a hand to get up. She smiled when he didn't let go as they approached the horse. Ben had been snorting and neighing restlessly, and he backed away when they walked closer. Edward frowned, asked Bella to wait farther from the horse, and patted the horse's neck. Ben shook his head and backtracked, but Edward grabbed the wet skewed saddle and held him in his place. He slid his hand across the horse's back and legs, and felt wet warmth under his palm when he reached the area close to his tail. The horse spooked, kicking with his left hinder hoof and missing Edward's stomach by inches. Bella backtracked in fear.

Edward shushed and caressed the horse, calming him down. He decisively gripped the reins when he eyed Bella.

"C'mere." He held out his hand. "Ben's hurt. We'll have to walk."

She carefully neared them, twined fingers with Edward's and gazed toward the horse. She started to smell the nauseating scent of blood and grimaced. "Is he okay?"

"No, but he will be. We'll have to clean his wounds when we're back home."

She remembered the other times she'd been around excessive amounts of blood and swallowed. Bella didn't want to be useless or seem reluctant to help, so she didn't mention her unwilling aversion of blood. The scent wasn't overwhelming in the wind, but it did make her feel slightly airheaded.

"Your farm is on the other side of the river, isn't it?" mused Bella, changing the subject.

Edward patted the limping Ben and offered Bella a slight smile. "I guess we're in for another swim."

.-*-.-*-.

Dripping of cold water, having half-dragged and half-pushed the reluctant and gradually moodier Ben to the other side of the river, they entered the horse barn and turned on the lights. Some hungry horses neighed in the stalls, the haystacks sat in their previous place and the halogen ceiling lights flickered. Edward tied Ben next to the window and stood a little awkwardly in front of Bella. They were both hungry, cold and exhausted. Edward placed both of his hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently. "I need to clean his wounds, and I know you're probably dead tired, but I'd really appreciate it if you'd help me. Please?"

She locked eyes with Edward and gave him a tired smile. "It's okay. Just tell me what to do."

He sighed and beamed, awkwardly enveloping her into a wet hug. "You're amazing. I'll bring us some stuff. I'll be right back."

Bella nodded into his chest, feeling the coldness of his body. She quivered, and Edward immediately unwrapped his arms from around her. "I'm sorry, I didn't think. You're probably freezing."

Bella noticed he was much more awkward under the halogen light of the barn. Was he really that self-conscious about his face? She didn't even notice his scar anymore.

"It's okay."

When Edward returned with a blanket, a pile of randomly chosen clothes, tearaway sandwiches and a big first-aid kit, Bella was sitting on a haystack, her head leaning on the broken window sill and eyes closed. Wanting to give her some time to nap, he carefully covered her with the blanket before he pulled on a dry pullover, gulped down a sandwich and got to work. There were large wooden splinters on the side of Ben's buttocks, a few very deep cuts, and a vast piece of skin had completely been torn off.

He soothed the horse when he finally got Ben to lay down. Edward had no guaifenesin or any other muscle relaxants in his kit, but he did have ketamine and bupivacaine. He was going to use the latter. He had cleaned the wounds and taken out the smaller splinters when he finally crouched in front of Bella and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned into his hand. Edward cleared his throat.

"Bella? I need you."

She hummed.

"Bella? I'm sorry, but I really do need you. You can sleep all day tomorrow for all I care."

The slightest of smiles appeared on her lips, but she said nothing. Edward placed his hands securely under her arms and pulled her sleeping figure up. He held her body with one hand while cupping her chin with the other. He turned it toward his face.

He loudly uttered, "Earth to Bella!"

She drowsily opened her eyes before stiffening and discovering that she was, in fact, already standing.

"I–I'm so sorry! How long was I asleep?"

He gave her his skewed smile. "Not nearly as long as I've been trying to wake you up." He made sure she was supporting herself before retreating. "Please have a bite to eat before you can come and help me out. It might get bloody, I don't want you to faint."

He meant it as a joke, but Bella immediately paled as she gazed toward the poor horse. He had a few big splinters up his buttocks. She felt incredibly insecure about what Edward expected her to do. She ate half the sandwich, pulled on a tasselled (but dry) cardigan, and embraced herself.

"What – what would you like me to do?"

He gave her an encouraging smile before holding Ben's legs in a secure grip. "Pull the splinters. The first two will be easy, third one's trickier. Just try to make it quick, he'll try to kick me for this."

Bella stared at Ben's buttocks with several small streams of dried liquid. "I'm surprised he made it here on his own feet – I mean, hooves."

"So am I."

"Couldn't we call a vet? This looks serious."

"I'm fairly sure my phone is now blissfully drifting in the river. We could go to the Jackson Hole to find the professional vet, but that would mean at least five hours of pain for Ben, and no-one can guarantee that we'll find one who's available and willing to come here in the middle of the night."

She crouched, held her breath and tore out two sticks, both quarter an inch wide and at least an inch deep. Ben snorted and attempted to get up, but Edward covered his front hooves with one of his legs. Bella pressed one of her hands on Ben's new wounds. Her breaths were slow and deliberate. She felt incredibly dizzy and wanted to lie down. Bella leaned away and took a breath. Edward removed his belt and set it on Ben's back, just in case.

"Ready?" muttered Bella without expecting an answer. She hunched, clutched the stick that was nearly an inch wide, and locked eyes with Edward. He nodded. She lowered her eyes and swiftly pulled the stick.

Ben let out a roaring neigh. A stream of blood squirted to Bella's face and ran down the cardigan she wore. She closed her mouth and fought the immediate revolting reaction – vomiting. She held her breath. Blood streamed down her arms when she tightly pressed one to the bloody wound and gripped the belt with the other one. Edward fought to hold Ben's hooves, but firmly pressed his own hand on Bella's to keep more blood in. His wrist stung.

Edward let go when she held one edge of the belt out to him, and together they wrapped the belt tightly around Ben's upper thigh. The flow of blood stopped. Edward felt Ben's muscles relax and looked at Ben's face. He'd fainted. Edward caressed the poor horse's back, made sure Ben still had a pulse and stared at the bloody mess that was Bella, standing and staring at the wall with her eyes unfocused. He didn't notice her paleness underneath the blood.

"You did it!" He smiled widely and stepped closer to give her a hug. "I knew you could."

Bella turned her eyes toward him, but couldn't register his face. She felt a churning sense in her stomach, turned around, and ran to the door. As soon as she was out, she crouched and disgorged all contents of her stomach onto the grass.

Startled, Edward ran after her. "Bella?"

He had wrapped his arm around Bella to help her stand by the time she had nothing left to vomit. The stars were starting to fade. Bella sniffed slightly and felt her knees buckle.

"Easy there." Edward turned her around and enveloped her in his arms.

Having taken a few deep breaths, Bella murmured, "You'll be covered in my puke and Ben's blood if you continue like this."

Edward squeezed her shoulders. "What's with you and caring about my clothes? I can assure you, there's no Hugo Boss label on my jeans."

She let out a weak chuckle and hid her head in the crook of his neck. "I'm sorry for… all of this. I've never been able to stand the smell of blood."

He sat on the doorframe, placed her in his lap and absent-mindedly caressed her hair. "You should've told me."

"I know, I just couldn't not help you. I would've felt even more horrible than I do now."

"You don't feel better?" he pulled her head away to look into her eyes. The fragility overwhelmed him.

She smiled faintly. "Better than I felt before puking, but still horribly embarrassed."

"Don't be embarrassed. It's only me."

Bella grumbled a retort he could not hear and hid her face. He kept running his hands through her hair.

"This feels like the longest day I've ever had," mused Bella tiredly and yawned. "It feels like ages ago when I had a shower in your brother's place. I can't believe there was a time I was actually clean…"

"I know," agreed Edward. "We should hit the sacks. I'll go and check on Ben, you can go and sleep." He kissed her forehead and lingered a little before admitting, "You do smell like puke and blood."

She nudged him. "Thanks. That's a real ego-boost."

"Always here to help," chuckled Edward and stood up, holding Bella until he was sure she wouldn't faint or fall; or both. They simply stood in front of each other, and out of tiredness or absentmindedness or sheer rush of emotions, Edward felt an urge to kiss Bella in all her humid gory mess. She locked eyes with him. But even if he had the guts, it was neither the time nor the place. He didn't see the pensive look in Bella's eyes when he turned around and entered the barn to check on the horse they'd saved.

When Edward opened the door of the house, his eyes fell on Bella sitting on the bedside. Her head leaned forward in a position that definitely did not look comfortable. Water had dripped from her wet hair to the holey T-shirt she'd found.

"Bella?"

He realised she had once again fallen asleep while still sitting. He put her in the centre of the bed above the blanket and wrapped it around her before sitting on the edge of the bed. The day really did feel like one of the longest in his life. He couldn't believe it had been hours ago when he had felt ridiculously jealous of Eric. He had no reason to be, Eric was just a boy. Neither did he own Bella; he'd have to work on his jealous side. Edward tucked Bella's wet hair away from her face and traced the scar behind her left ear. He hoped he would remember to ask how she got the scar.

Edward didn't want Bella to go. If Bella really did feel something for him, would this become just a summer fling? Would he become someone she spent time with out of pity? He resented the thought, but felt it was more likely than a lasting relationship. She would eventually forget him.

He sighed, kissed her forehead – an intimate act he'd recently learned to carry out without embarrassment (then again, Bella was asleep this time) – and stood. But just as he had reached the hole of the door (an actual door was yet to be attached), he heard his name on Bella's lips. He turned about, and looked into Bella's half-opened eyes.

"Stay," she muttered groggily.

He shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Please. I trust you."

_That makes one of us. _Edward stared at her drowsy but persistent eyes and hesitated. "I shouldn't."

"Are you trying to make me beg or do you really not want to?" She closed her eyes. "Never mind. S'okay. Good night."

Edward stood, frozen, staring at her sleepy form. Did Bella just think he was rejecting her? He merely didn't want to be sporting morning wood and make the situation between them more uncomfortable than it already was. Sighing, he made a decision he'd surely regret in the morning. Edward removed his shoes and lay down fully clothed next to Bella. She raised her blanket and sleepily murmured, "Do I still smell of puke and blood?"

He wrapped an arm around her waist and sniffed her neck. "No. You smell like soap and… Bella."

"Good," she replied, placing her hand on his and yawning, half-asleep. "I don't wanna ruin your Hugo Boss tuxedo."

Edward chuckled.

.-*-.-*-.

Bella felt weight on her chest that made it difficult for her to breathe. She opened her eyes to tanned skin and felt hair in her mouth. She blew it away, shifted away from the weight and listened to her stomach growl. The weight on top of her shook repeatedly.

"I hear someone's hungry."

Bella let out a muted scream. Edward immediately backed away to the other side of the bed and raised his arms as a sign of peace. "It's just me. Edward."

She held a hand above her heart. "You scared the Jesus out of me. What're you doing here?"

He rubbed his neck. "You – you don't remember?"

"I…" she trailed off. "…no."

"You asked me to spend the night here," said Edward simply. "I swear I didn't take advantage of you or anything."

"Oh."

He eyed Bella. "You don't remember a thing?"

"I, uh. I remember going swimming to clean the blood, coming back and taking off my shoes."

"And nothing after that?"

She paled and locked eyes with him. "Don't tell me I… what did I do?"

He wondered how she would react if he told her they'd made out. "Relax. Nothing too embarrassing. But you're awfully talkative, you are apparently able to argue me into sleeping next to you while fully asleep."

She hid her face in her hands. "God, I'm so sorry."

"I usually go by Edward, but God works just fine."

.-*-.-*-.

Bella sat on a rock and basked in the sun when she brushed her teeth. It was noon and just as last week, not a single cloud decorated the sky. The wind seemed to avoid Masen's Oak, and due to that, Bella was already sweating and wondering if she should go for a swim. They had agreed that Bella would make brunch for them while Edward dealt with the horses (but mostly Ben). She had no means of contacting Alice for Edward's cellular had fallen into the river, and was probably drifting in the sun with the painting Bella had gotten and the jacket she'd lost. Edward's gun had not been lost, but Edward had told her it didn't function anymore.

She rinsed her mouth and thought of the prospect of just bluntly telling Edward about her occupation. She couldn't continue like this. But at the thought, she could only wrap her mind around _…instead of all that crap._

Bella made a choice. She would not keep encouraging him before she gathered the guts to admit that she'd been misleading him.

During the next three days, Bella went from optimistic (_how bad could it be?_) and neutral (_it's a job like any other_) to sad (_…all that crap_) and just plain depressing (_…all that crap, all that crap, all that crap_). Whatever she did, whenever she brought up a vague conversation about nothing in particular, she eventually backed out of it. The three words haunted her, and she felt gradually guiltier with every passing day without the words she needed Edward to hear. Even when he played the banjo for her, just to 'wipe off the dust from his fingers,' she could not bring herself to say her life included much more than just living in a big city and studying arts. She led a public life, and while she loved to think he could get past that obstacle, it wasn't as insignificant as she liked to imagine. It would be a big deal – and an enormous change – for him. If he forgave her. Somehow, the chances of that seemed to diminish every day.

They'd put a roof on the house, built a staircase to the second floor, swam and laughed, and everything seemed to be okay, but the odd silence started to eat away at Edward's mind. She no longer sought his company or his touch. The little things that had started to matter and give him confidence no longer existed. For a week, she had made him feel like his lack of permanent income, isolation from the world and problematic face mattered very little to her. He ignored the awkwardness and avoided confronting her, but it got him so mentally frustrated that he couldn't keep it up.

They had been doing hay on Thursday afternoon a few hours before going to Jackson Hole when Edward stuck the hayfork in the haystack and eyed Bella. "Have I done something wrong?"

Bella, too, put away her hayfork and sipped water. She frowned. "What do you mean?"

He rubbed his neck. "I feel like…" _I feel like you led me on and suddenly figured out I wasn't worth it. _"I feel like you're sort of… distant. Did I mess up somewhere? I'm sorry if I… I just can't figure out why you're mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you."

He walked next to her. "Then what did I do wrong?"

"You…" she hesitated. "You didn't. It's me."

Edward flinched. In his mind, the 'it's-me-and-not-you' speech just screamed for YOU'RE A STUPID ASSHOLE. OF COURSE IT'S YOU.

"I see." He swallowed and averted his eyes. He knew now would be the place where Bella would start to feel sorry for him and lengthen her speech of how the problem was all hers.

Bella noticed his reaction and rushed to explain. "Edward, I swear you've done nothing wrong. Honestly."

_Understood. _He felt angry at no-one in particular, but for once, he was wise enough not to show it. He attempted a smile. "It's alright. Let's just work."

"Edward…"

He gripped the hayfork with newfound vigour and avoided Bella's eyes, afraid she'd see just how much she had led him on. It hurt.

"Edward…"

He didn't turn toward her. "Let's just work, alright?"

Bella's throat seemed to have dried up. She sighed, gripped the hayfork and wished she could throw away her problems the way she did with the hay. She'd dug herself into a hole.

* * *

**A/N:** When I was little, my brothers and I had a rather cartoonish way of catching mice. We attached a string to a large match, turned an iron bowl upside down on whatever edible stuff we had around and laid down near the mouse hole (which we had many). And waited. When a mouse smelled our little meal and walked into the trap, we'd pull the string. We were fairly efficient. We caught them alive, put them into a carton box (from where they usually escaped during the night) or a three-litre milk jar (from where they also escaped). Which meant we'd go back to hunting them. I asked my mother why she didn't mind, and she told me, "But you wanted to have a pet!"

One particularly ghastly mouse bit my brother's finger and when he shook his hand to get rid of it, it held on and dangled along. One other (not a very bright) mouse was so bold that when we discovered it, another one of my brothers ambushed around the corner before hitting it with his shoe. It died instantly. I once woke up to stare at a mouse on my pillow.

All yelling and negative thoughts are appreciated! Everything is. I'll reply. Is anyone interested in an update next Friday?


	7. Isabella: The Closet Manizer

**Disclaimer:** The Twilight Saga is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm leaving for a trip northward for the weekend (YAY) and will reply once I'm back from the little cottage without internet. (But with the chance to skate all day!) It would honestly make my Tuesday if you were so kind and sent a few words my way, positive or not. :)

Special thanks to my lovely cascsiany for finding the time to beta!

An idea of how a banjo feels like: youtube. com/watch?v=8wp18pJDnfQ  
(Please remove the space to use the link.)

* * *

**A Cry for the Moon**  
by Merevaik

**Chapter 7: 'Isabella: The Closet Manizer'  
**

Bella sat cross-legged in front of the ragged carton box that contained Rosalie's out-of-fashion clothes. She had laid out the different choices, but settled for eyeing her chewed fingernails in absentmindedness. Choosing clothes had never been an issue since Alice had always been more than happy to offer a hand (and often became overwhelming in her eagerness to help). Bella had taken one look at her dirty grey sweatpants and holey T-short before she decided she needed to at least make an effort for tonight. But all of the clothes were either broken, worn-out or so ridiculously out of fashion she'd be doomed if any of the paparazzi saw her. After five minutes of no progress, she chose a modest blue dress. It itched around her neck, but didn't look half bad. She combed her hair, took her passport and left the shed.

Edward had already taken Indra out of the barn, and was fingering the leather bracelet he'd cheesily made her; he wanted her to have a memory, even a small and insignificant one, of her stay. Edward put it back into the pouch and was searching for his knife when he stopped and lowered the gun he was holding. He stared at her with an indecipherable expression before clearing his throat.

"You can't be serious."

She shifted. "What?"

"That does not look comfortable," explained Edward, the edge of laughter appearing in his eyes. "Neither are you going to be sitting on the horse with that–that… _thing_. We still have a little time, you can go and change."

"But–but that's the only decent clean piece of clothing there was."

He tilted his head on the side and, with sarcasm, noted, "Decent? Sure. But even if it was, you do realise we have a long night ahead? Do you remember how cold the night can get? I know you're from the big city and everything, but Bella. No-one here would care if you wore camouflage to a wedding. In fact, you'll have a better chance of fitting in if you do wear something old and ragged. And comfortable. Don't tell me what you're wearing is comfortable. I can see it isn't."

Bella opened her mouth to argue, but Edward's serious expression made her silently turn to go and change. She didn't want to feel like the metropolitan girl who wore heels to the field, she was simply raised to make sure she looked remotely presentable; with her occupation, that was a must. But his comment about fitting in had reminded a good point to Bella. She chose torn jeans that were a little too large from the waist, broadening from the bottom (the way pants did at the beginning of 2000s), and a clean-ish T-shirt that was vaguely brown. She usually preferred blue and rarely yellow, but did not have a choice this time, so she had to settle for the fact she wasn't entirely sure if her shirt was green, red or brown. She grabbed a large pullover and wide sunglasses, and exited the shed.

Unaware of her presence, Edward leaned on the saddle and observed his knife. He slid his fingers across the blade, blew on it, glided the blade across his rough palm and repeated the action. His brow was furrowed, overgrown hair fell on his face and he occasionally scratched the scar on his face. He wore dark jeans and a black pullover, clean and suitable for performing. His ten-gallon hat rested on the saddle. Edward raised his eyes and smiled, albeit a little distantly.

"Much better." He put away the knife and the gun, and without further ado, lifted Bella on the back of the horse. He offered the banjo-case for Bella to put it on her back and lifted himself on the horse. They left Masen's Oak with a calm pace.

Edward hesitated. "Hey, listen. I just wanted to say I'm not trying to dictate what you wear, I just think you shouldn't give up comfort for appearance when it's unnecessary. I don't want you to be labeled a tourist, you'll see they all catch that up anyway."

"They can smell a tourist?" she asked with mild amusement.

"From miles. But they're a major source of income in Jackson, so everyone's very nice."

"Because of Yellowstone?" asked Bella half-metaphorically. "I've always wanted to go to there."

"You should've told me sooner." He turned his head, frowning. "We could've gone there."

She shifted. "I guess I enjoyed my time here without playing a classical tourist. I've had lots of fun, Edward. I – I just wanted to thank you for that."

The sun blinded Edward and he carefully focused his gaze on the small trail ahead of them. He once again wanted to know what had gone wrong, why she changed her mind about him, and it occurred to him that _nothing had actually happened between them_. He should get a grip and stop brooding.

He sighed. "Have you – have you thought about… when you're leaving?"

"I thought maybe I could go to the bank when you're meeting Gary Banner. I just need to make a call. Could you borrow me some money? I promise I'll pay you back."

Edward didn't detect one hint of sadness in her voice and felt that it was unfair of her not to be even slightly sad when he struggled to show indifference. "I should have some cash. Don't worry about paying back."

"But I want to," argued Bella. "You've done a lot for me, that's the least I can do for you."

Once again, he sighed. "Bella, I don't want your money. I won't accept it."

Wanting to help Edward, she disagreed, but fell silent and started to think of how to give some to him anyway. He was too proud to accept the help he needed (in her eyes).

They crossed the river in a shallow place, and while the wind picked up, the sky continued to show no signs of cloud cover. For more than an hour, they strode in thoughtful silence, and waited for fifteen minutes in a gravel road as a cattle passed. The young herder greeted them both with a grin, apologised for the cattle and made small-talk with Edward.

Once they continued to ride, Bella asked, "Edward, if your gun doesn't work, why'd you take it with you?"

In spite of his broody mind, he chuckled. "You mean other than my knife?"

"I guess. Why're you always so armed?"

"A habit, I guess; and self-defence. Most people here keep pocket knives with them, it's no big deal."

"But why the gun if it doesn't work anymore?"

He smiled to himself. "Don't tell me you thought I only owned one."

Her eyes widened as she leaned on the side to look at Edward's profile. "You can't be serious," repeated Bella his previous words in a different context. "How many _do _you own?"

"About six or so."

She gaped. "I guess I – I should be glad you didn't tell me sooner, I wouldn't have slept a minute in your house…"

"What – you think I would've shot you while you slept?" asked Edward with obvious amusement in his voice.

"No, of course not! But six guns is quite a lot. Why so many?"

"Don't worry, I don't murder people as a pastime. I have licence to all of them. Two I got from my dad, they're older than I am. I don't think they work anymore. One was a gift from my grandpa, one a gift from Emmett and two I bought myself. Only three of them work for certain."

"But still – why?"

"Deer hunting. Starting from The Opener, the Saturday closest to the first of November, we can hunt deer. Reasonably, of course."

"I didn't know that."

His smile didn't reach his eyes. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

Bella had no response. Less than an hour later, they were pacing in the tidy streets of Jackson in Jackson Hole valley. One side of the small town ended (and started) with the outstanding East Gros Ventre Butte, a beautiful mountain range north-west of Jackson. The houses were relatively low and everyone seemed to know Edward; he waved at people in pick-up trucks and streets, stopped to chat with a souvenir seller and often raised his arm to the brim of his hat when he was too far to greet the person. Bella hadn't expected for anyone to immediately recognise her – she was glad they did not and wore sunglasses to avoid being recognised – but Bella still felt uneasy at first when people greeted them with such enthusiasm.

She smiled. "Are you like a local celebrity here or something?"

"Oh, no." Edward let out an awkward laugh. "It's just that most people here have known each other since they were born. It's a small place."

Bella noticed that a few people stopped to stare at them, and she immediately turned away her face before she realised the staring was not directed at her. These were the people – mainly tourists, she guessed – who stopped to point out the scar on Edward's face. Children she could understand, but the disgusted faces from adults angered her. Edward pretended not to notice, so she did not comment, but Bella could not act as if it didn't bother her. Didn't they have anything better to do than to stare at Edward? _His face is not his fault. Stop it._

Edward stopped the horse in front of the beige Betty Rock Café and tied Indra to a tree before helping Bella down. He searched for cash from his pockets and explained, "See that triangular house on the right? Go past that along the West Pearl Avenue and you'll see a wooden house just across South Millward Street. Bank of the West, it's got a sign, and it's only a few minutes away. You won't be lost." He placed the crumpled cash in her small palm. "It's almost four, do you think you'll be done by five?"

"I think so."

Edward took a few crinkly A4 papers from the pouch as a proof of Tyler's pure ancestry, set them on the saddle, and hesitated. He felt awkward leaving the fragile girl on her own like that; they hadn't really parted since the day she arrived. He took a step closer to Bella, kissed her on the forehead and said, "Take care of yourself, alright?"

He clutched the papers, turned around and walked into the café without looking back. He felt like an utter fool. He knew he had started to feel something for the girl, and could not do anything about it because her distance during the past few days had made her lack of interest too clear. She'd be gone on Sunday, and even if they kept in touch, their (lack of) relationship would eventually fade in distance and better choices. Edward was not a good choice, and he knew it. Bella knew it with her IT'S YOU, YOU STUPID ASSHOLE speech. Maybe she didn't mean to lead him on, what if he just read her wrong? He grimaced, but shortly thereafter covered his face with a smile as he greeted his former Biology teacher Gary Banner. They ordered two coffees and got straight to business.

.-*-.-*-.

Bella felt like a heavy brick had been dropped in her stomach. She stood frozen in front of the café, feeling the tingle of Edward's lips on her forehead when a hand tugged on her jeans. Bella lowered her gaze and stared at a blonde girl in a pink dress and a brown teddy bear. Her hand was in a cast.

"Isabella, vill you gimme your sinnature?" she asked.

"Autograph, sweetie, autograph," a woman Bella thought to be the girl's mother corrected. The woman stood a few feet away from her daughter, obviously a little hesitant about approaching Bella. The actress crouched, took the paper, and smiled. She put the sunglasses on top of her head.

"Of course I will give you my signature. What's your name?"

The girl hugged her bear. "Mary."

Bella smiled. "That's my best friend's middle name."

"Really?" The girl's eyes widened. "Is she as pretty as you?"

"Much prettier."

Mary grinned. "Are all Marys pretty?"

"I'm sure they are," answered Bella, smiling as she wrote a dedication. "What happened to your hand?"

"I wanneto learn how to climb like the spidermaan," replied Mary, cringing. "But it hurt."

Her mother, having gained some confidence, stepped closer. "Mary likes to climb, but we never thought she'd climb up a rope to the branch… she fell. She got the cast just a few hours ago." The woman tussled her daughter's hair.

"I'm sorry," replied Bella, and turned to the girl. "Do you promise not to do it again if I draw you a teddy?"

"You can draw a teddy? Yes!"

Bella grinned, did her best to scribble down a bear with a dopey grin, and handed the torn paper (no doubt sought in a hurry) back to the girl. She stood as Mary's mother started to apologise, "I'm sorry we disturbed you like this, I tried to convince Mary you had better things to do, but she wouldn't take no for an answer."

"It's okay," assured Bella.

"You're quite a role model for her, you know," continued the woman shyly. "She wants to be just like you when she grows up. Don't you, Mary?"

"No," denied Mary, half-hiding behind her mother's legs. "I don't want to be _like_ Isabella, I want to _be_ her."

Bella chuckled. "When you grow up, you'll realise it's best if you stick to just being the best version of yourself."

The girl frowned, but before they could continue the conversation, Mary's mother took her daughter's hand, smiled, and waved goodbye. Bella walked in the other direction, deep in thought. Moments like this were a reminder of the life she'd chosen. She had always felt flattered to be asked an autograph, and rarely turned her fans down, but Bella couldn't remember the last time she had time to actually have a conversation with one of the admirers of her work. The last time she was able to answer all her fan-mail by herself had been when she was thirteen years old. Bella still replied, but only to a fragment of her more dedicated fans. She received fluffy toy animals, clothes, tapes, videos and even sex toys, but didn't actually know what to do with all the good intentions. The toys she anonymously sent to shelter, just like she did with clothes, but the overall enormous amount of things her fan-base had sent her made it impossible to reply to them all. She simply didn't have the time.

As Bella stepped into the wooden bank with the slightest aura of dust, she took out the cash and coins Edward had given her and hesitantly approached the woman behind the counter.

"Excuse me, may I use the telephone?"

The bookworm of a brown-haired woman behind the counter blinked several times. She didn't offer the seat to Bella, but the actress sat down regardless.

"I'm sorry," apologised Bella. "I asked if I could use the telephone?"

The woman continued to blink before clearing her throat. "Uh, sure." She did not ask for Bella to pay, nor did she mention anything about the cost, but Bella uncrumpled the cash and coins she had warmed in her palm and set it on the counter.

"I could pay with a debit or a credit card, but the cards were destroyed. I still have the accounts, but for me to have the necessary numbers to gain access to them I need to make this call. Is that okay?"

The woman with the nametag 'A. Webber' nodded dumbly. Bella offered an encouraging smile, and dialled her best friend's number. It didn't even take five seconds before Alice picked it up.

"Alice Brandon, Isabella's manager, how may I help you?"

"Hi Alice! Bella here. Don't panic, I'm okay. But I don't have much time to talk. I need you to tell me my account numbers for my debit and credit cards. I wrote them down in a word document, remember? My computer's password is –" Bella hesitated and held her palm on the phone as she asked the 'A. Webber' to please give her some privacy. She felt like a primadonna, but didn't have time to worry. "– Elttaes040598. Open the folder named Gardening."

Unsure, Bella looked around for paper and pen and with guilty conscience took a pink sticky note and a blue pen.

"Bella, I haven't heard from you for _what_ – five days, and now you –"

"I'm sorry." Bella sighed, knowing that the only way to avoid paying for a two-hour conversation was to be firm. She'd have enough time to chat once she was face-to-face with Alice. "I'll explain once I get back."

"You better," replied Alice with a slightly irked voice, and Bella heard the sound of keyboard buttons in the distance. Alice continued, "And you're freakishly lucky you're a suspicious weirdo who always leaves her computer in my place. But while I hack into your computer, tell me how you've been. Are you already married to that farmer dude or what?"

Bella nearly snorted. "Of course." And with a slightly lower voice, added, "Actually, he kind of… still doesn't know."

"You're kidding me."

"No, and I… I feel shitty about it, but I–I don't know how to tell him."

Amused, Alice huffed. "How about: 'I'm famous.' Two words. Not exactly nuclear science."

"Maybe not to you, but…"

"Got it!" interrupted Alice, and with uncharacteristic patience repeated the numbers three times to make sure Bella got everything right. With a gentler voice, she asked, "But how have you really been? Why haven't you called me? I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," answered Bella, sighing. "Edward's phone fell into water. I'm okay. We're okay. How have you been? How was Mike's party?"

"I'm great! And it was phenomenal, though everyone kept asking about you. When are you intending to arrive back into our waiting arms?"

"Sunday. I'll buy myself a phone and let you know the time, okay?"

"Just don't disappear the third time. There's only so much my nerves can handle."

"Yes, mom."

Alice let out a huff. "What have I told you about calling me that?"

Bella snickered, "Love you!" And disconnected.

Bella carefully rang the bell on the table. 'A. Webber' appeared from around the corner and hesitated before taking a seat behind the counter. Bella apologised for asking her to leave, slid the cash in front of the woman with, "If that's not enough, I can add some from my account." And waited. 'A. Webber' kept gaping at Bella without answering her.

"Miss Webber?" Bella placed the account numbers in front of the woman. "Would it be possible for me to take some money from my account, please? I'll pay the commission you require."

'A. Webber,' finally snapping out of it, blushed a deeper shade of red than Bella thought she'd ever seen, and stuttered, "Of course, Miss Swan." Her hands shook a little as she typed in the necessary numbers, and she kept quiet while Bella entered her password digits into the pin machine. Bella received the necessary amount for two phones and some groceries and asked to use the internet to buy herself a ticket home. Once she had confirmed the payment and printed out necessary papers to make sure she would remember the time of her flight, Bella exited the bank house. From the moment she had bought the one-way ticket home, Bella felt a sense of dread. She hadn't finished her business in Wyoming.

A guy bumped into her and they both apologised profoundly before the black-haired man openly stared at her. Bella lowered her gaze (as well as her sunglasses) and walked away. After twenty minutes of searching, Bella found an electronics store and bought two Apple iPhones.

As she walked along West Pearl Street with two boxes under her arm, her eyes fell on a blown-up picture of herself. She passed it without second glance before coming to an abrupt stop and retreating. It was a small beige cinema, and a picture of _Remembering_ was in a red (brown to Bella) rain-proof box. She stood in front of it as a group of giggling teenagers passed, one of them declaring, "…like, if I'd meet Isabella, I soo tell her to stop dating Jacob. He's, like, far too hot for her."

Bella knew everyone was entitled to their own opinion, and she didn't mind criticism, but it was obvious certain haters would not dare to approach the subject of their hate in fear of confrontation.

"I dunno," a shorter girl argued. "She's a pretty good actress, and I don't think she looks that bad."

"Well, I think she's gorgeous," a curly blonde with bright long nails added.

The four girls formed a group in front of the door on the corner and short girl's eyes fell on Bella. She gaped before clearing her throat and looking at her friend. "What did you say again that you'd tell Isabella?"

The girl with a leather jacket looked up. "To stop dating Jacob. She's ugly."

The short girl shyly motioned toward Isabella. "I think now's your chance."

Four pairs of eyes fell on the actress who was awkwardly holding two boxes and standing right beside a picture of herself. But being a professional, she covered her face with a smile and stepped closer to them.

"Hi."

"OhmyGodohmyGod. Oh. My. God."

"What're you girls going to watch?" asked Bella.

The short one timidly replied, "Um, Remembering."

Bella smiled. "I hope you enjoy." She waved as she retreated from them, hearing the curly blonde girl squeak,

"Oh. My. Fucking. God. Was that –? Holy shit! What is she doing…"

It didn't even take a minute for Bella to be back in front of the Betty Rock Café. The fragile-looking Indra stood next to the tree, so Bella figured Edward and Gary were still inside. Not wanting to interrupt them, Bella sat down a few feet from the horse (in front of Indra, not behind her), and opened one of the boxes. She threw the carton into a garbage bin, turned on the iPhone and found out it was 4: 48 PM, the 15th of July. The salesclerk had helped her set the clock and date.

She sent a short concise text-message to Alice so that she would have her new number.

Bella did not notice the bald man who lingered on the other side of the street and pretended to read a map. He occasionally raised his Olympus E-10 and pressed a button before resuming to his map-reading.

Fifteen minutes later, Edward exited the café with a pleased smile and a cheque in his hand. Bella smiled at him, stood up and wiped the dust off her bottom.

"I take it you're happy with the result?"

He beamed as he enveloped her into a hug. "Incredibly. How'd you do?"

She felt his masculine scent all around her and awkwardly pulled back; she had promised to herself not to initiate anything as long as she kept being a coward, but didn't take his actions into consideration, uncharacteristic of him as it was to be so forward.

Finishing the coffee after Gary Banner had left, Edward had pondered on his (lack of) relationship, and figured how much of a wimp he was being. His fear of rejection had prevented him from initiating anything, and yes, Bella had been distant lately; but what if she thought he didn't care? He shouldn't let her go without trying to find out if he stood a chance. And if he didn't, he could always lick his wounds once she had left.

Bella handed him the black box. "It's for you."

He hesitated before accepting it. "But I don't want anything," reasoned Edward. "Why?"

"I just figured yours was owned by fish, and I wanted to do something for you. You do need a phone, right?"

He rubbed his neck. "But my last one was an old Nokia 3210. I'm not exactly technology-savvy. I've never used touch-screen."

Bella smiled, taking the box and opening it in front of him. "Oh, it's very easy. I got you a black one since it might get a little dirty. I couldn't get you a contract with AT&T, and it's only 16 GB, but it's got a proper guarantee and everything."

"How do you know all of this?"

"I'm not exactly tech-savvy, either, but Mike is. He claims it to be the manliest part of him. He's waiting for the iPhone 5 like no-one else."

"And this is…" he trailed off.

"An iPhone 4."

She gave him the phone, explained a few simple short-cuts and the basics, but Edward still held it as if it might break if he touched it with his rough hands. The furrow between his eyes deepened before he put it in Bella's hand and closed her fingers around it.

"I can't take this. It probably cost a fortune, I can't pay you for this."

"But I don't want you to," argued Bella, placing it back in his. "It's a gift, and much less than you deserve."

He shook his head. "How much did it cost you?"

"It doesn't matter. It's yours now and I refuse to take it back."

He frowned. "But Bella… it's too much, I don't –"

"Edward," warned Bella. "You need a phone. I wanted you to have a gift, and bought you one. Please take it, if not because you want it, then because I'm going to be sad if you don't."

They stared at each other before Edward sighed and relented. "Only because you look like you might kill me if I don't."

"The look isn't deceiving you, I won't hesitate to act on it."

Edward eyed her as he huffed a chuckle. "You're the strangest girl, anyone tell you that?"

"Only you and about three hundred million other Americans."

They untied Indra and paced fifteen minutes along West Broadway Street to The Virginian Lodge, a white one-story hotel with the view to the mountains. There were a few tourist buses on the other side of the street. Edward guided them behind the complex to an old fence where he tied Indra. He brought a bucket of water to the horse before they entered The Virginian Saloon through the swinging doors. It was a western-style place with artefacts, butting ram mounts, big screen TVs, a dance floor and a small stage.

A bald man with a back-bag and a camera entered the saloon five minutes later. He took a seat next to a half-drunk blonde with a pony-tail.

Once again, Bella felt like Edward knew everyone in this town as he greeted at least five people on their way to the bar. A well-toned and black-haired young man grinned at them from behind the counter, shook hands with Edward and introduced himself as Sam. Bella had placed her sunglasses on top of her head, so she wasn't surprised by the stunned look in his eyes. She was sure he had recognised her.

"What's wrong?" asked Edward, unaware of the reason for Sam's awe-struck expression.

"Nothing," answered Sam as he tore away his eyes. He did not want to be rude by staring at Edward's extremely unexpected companion.

"How's today been?"

"Y'know, the usual. Busier than yesterday, less busy than tomorrow."

Edward asked Bella to pick a table and Bella chose one in the corner. She noticed a few heads turn and heard whispers when she came back from the bathroom, but didn't glance back at the people most of whom – she guessed – were tourists. They ordered dinner and had an easy conversation as they watched the place fill with people.

"Are you nervous?" asked Bella, having finished her fish.

He shrugged and took a sip of beer when he frowned at a man openly staring at Bella. "A little, I guess. I've occasionally performed here since I was seventeen, so I'm not overly worried. I've performed to a packed saloon and to mere six sitting in the back. I won't die of this." Bella noticed he'd started rubbing his neck, so she knew he wasn't a cold fish to the audience.

"Didn't you –" she started, but stopped herself. "Sorry. Never mind."

Edward tore his eyes from the man who was so blatant in his staring Edward had to physically hold back from marching to the man and asking what his problem was. "Did I not – what?"

"Not important," muttered Bella, suddenly very interested in the small defect on her glass.

His voice was gentler this time, "You know you can trust me, right? Don't be afraid to ask a question. And don't start apologising for asking a question. It's not a crime to be curious."

"It's just… I – I was wondering if it was difficult to perform at first, with your –" She vaguely motioned at his face. "– uh, scar and all."

"Yes," affirmed Edward simply. "It was. But my mother thought I needed a push out of my personal bubble, so she convinced me to sing and play in front of an audience. I hated it the first time, and it was the only time I actually yelled at my mother. But I performed again, and the staring bothered me less and less. I don't really even notice it anymore. Or, no – that would be a lie. I do notice, but it's more like I choose not to pay attention."

_That's exactly how I feel about people staring at me, _thought Bella while Edward observed the couples on the dance floor. He still had a half an hour before his performance.

"Would you care to dance?"

Bella smiled and stood; she knew she wasn't the greatest of dancers, but she was confident enough after the dancing lessons not to be terrified of killing Edward. "I'd love to."

Edward grinned, and led her to the dance floor while _Fade Into You _by Mazzy Star played on the background. He hesitated when he gently placed his hands on her waist. She put her hands on his shoulders and stretched out her arms because of his height. She snickered.

"What?"

Bella couldn't stop laughing. "I feel like a midget."

He smiled. "You're not_ that_ short."

"No, but you _are _that tall. Did you ever think of a basketball career?"

"Riding a horse I can do. Chasing a ball in circles in front of a boisterous crowd wishing the ball to be several feet above me in a hoop? No thank you."

She nudged him as she laughed, and he loved being the cause of it. They danced several songs, and as they grew more comfortable with their proximity, Bella's head ended up resting on his chest and her arms around his neck.

"Bella?" he muttered near her ear. "Why've you been so distant lately? Did I do anything wrong? I promise I won't be mad if you just tell me what I did. Be honest."

Bella pursed her lips, having hoped to draw this conversation to the end of the night; if he became angry, it would ruin the whole night (and the following days).

"I swear it wasn't you," admitted Bella. "No matter what you think, it isn't you."

"So you keep telling me," sighed Edward. "Then what is it? Do you… not like me like that?"

She remained silent for a minute, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. She would tell him the truth, and tonight. "Can we continue this conversation later?"

He pulled away from her and cupped her chin. "I'm holding you to that."

.-*-.-*-.

Edward sat on the stage and gladly noted that not many people had turned their chairs toward him. He knew they would once he started, but he liked to think of himself as more of a background singer than a focus of attention for the entire room. He made sure the microphones were reasonably quiet, played a few chords while tuning his banjo, said a few words, and started to play before singing.

Bella choked on her cranberry juice and coughed to her sleeve as she tried to evade the embarrassment. She silently cleared her throat a few times as she observed the room. Every eye had turned toward the stage. Edward could play the banjo reasonably well, he wasn't a phenomenal player, but experienced enough to know how to behave if he messed up. But Bella had not heard Edward sing before, and boy, could he sing. Bella was certain he wrapped the stunned audience in his raspy voice. She was mesmerised for a few songs until a hand tapped on her shoulder.

Edward frowned on stage, his eyes following the man, but he did not miss a note.

"Excuse me," a man's quiet voice came from behind Bella. "I was wondering if you could…" The man held out a paper and a pen. "My daughter would kill me if she knew I met you and didn't even attempt to get an autograph…"

Bella closed her eyes for two seconds_. This isn't happening._ "Uh, sure. What's her name?"

"Rebecca."

She wrote a dedication, politely smiled at the man and turned her attention back to the stage where Edward locked eyes with her. He frowned as he continued his cover for Marc Cohn's_ True Companion_. A familiar blonde man with a pony tail held his eyes on the actress on the other side of the room and drunkenly argued with the man by his side, but about what, he no longer followed.

An applause erupted, Edward gave the crowd a modest bow and stood up to join Bella. He had eyed her through his performance and loved the twinkle that appeared in her eyes when he sang. He felt pats on her back as he made his way toward Bella, and two thirds of the crowd in the saloon poured out of the room; they had stayed there for Edward's performance, it seemed.

Bella stood up, smiling. "Edward, I –"

Having gained confidence, Edward carefully cupped her chin, locked eyes with her and leaned down with the feel of butterflies erupting in his stomach. He gently pressed his lips to hers. He slid his hands in her hair as she started to tug at the hair on the nape of his neck, and she let out a quiet moan. She felt warm and sweet against him, and he wouldn't have stopped had she not became completely still.

"That was…" started Edward, awestruck before his eyes fell on her pained expression. "Shit. I thought you said… I–I thought you wanted this too." He swallowed, running his hands through her hair, wanting to assure she was alright. "Please forgive me. I didn't mean to… fuck."

When he noticed her watery eyes, he nearly panicked. "I'm so sorry, Bella." He hugged her with all his force and without hearing what she was attempting to say. A hand tapped on Edward's shoulder, and an awkward-looking Sam appeared.

"Um, Edward. Sorry to interrupt, but Leah's leaving. You should remind her to write you a cheque or you'll be chasing it for quite a while…"

"In a minute," said Edward, eyes on Bella's. Sam left and Bella pulled away from Edward to look into his eyes. She smiled through tears, and Edward frowned, feeling like he needed a dictionary on female behaviour. He was far from being an expert on women, but surely a girl crying when you kissed her could not stand for phenomenal kissing skills.

"We need to talk." The both said simultaneously.

Bella smiled awkwardly. "You should go, we'll talk after that, okay? I'll be right here."

He slid his thumb across her jaw and wiped a tear. "Will you be alright?"

"Yeah." She nodded, smiling. "We just… really need to talk."

"I know," agreed Edward and left to get a cheque from Leah. Having folded it before putting it in his pocket, he went to the bathroom. He did not linger in front of the mirror, but he did linger outside of the bathrooms, walking back and forth around a corner from the bar. Pondering or brooding, he wasn't entirely sure.

Meanwhile, a blonde man with a ponytail approached a sitting Bella, leaning on a few chairs as he made his way toward her. The actress was observing her empty glass and did not see him until he had sat right next to her. She stiffened and smelled the particular scent of booze that gave her goose-bumps. Without looking at him, she said, "James."

"Well, well, well. The lil' sneaky actress remembers me."

She dismissed his comment. "What do you want?"

"Well, I want you to gimme wha' Edward owes me," slurred James, surprisingly eloquent for the state he was in; he did not catch too much attention on them with his quiet but unpleasant voice, and for that Bella was grateful. A few faces turned toward them occasionally, but not more than she was used to.

"And what does he owe you? I have no interest in coming between your business affairs."

"But Isabella." James reached for her face, but she snapped back. He clenched his yaw before muttering, "What he owes me is no business affair. You see, he went out with this girl who would've been mine, and now he stole another girl who could've been mine."

"If Jessica is anything I imagine her to be, she would never be with you on her own will," said Bella with an eerily calm voice. "Much like I would rather die than 'be yours.'"

Bella did not think her words through, she neglected the fact that he was drunk and her straight-forward opinion would be read as a provocation. Before she could voice a lie or convince him to get some sleep to sober up, he had her pressed against the couch in the dark corner of the saloon. He covered her mouth with his hand. She kicked his foot, but he was too drunk to care and replaced his hand with his mouth and started to shove his tongue down her throat. She let out a muted cry.

Edward felt as if all blood drained from his veins when he saw Bella pushed up against the couch behind her as a man kissed her. He held his breath, staring at the sight that physically tortured him. But after three seconds of blatant ogling, he realised Bella's hands were not pulling the man forward, they were pushing him away. He caught sight of a ponytail and was by her side with four fast strides. Sam, too, raised his eyes to see the source of the muted cry, and immediately jumped over the counter to join Edward.

A bald man across the room had a laptop opened in front of him and a camera attached to the computer. Most tourists were now openly staring at the corner and three strangers had also started to run to the actress to help them.

Edward and Sam swung James away from Bella, but James' drunken rustling freed him from their grip and he slid his right hand behind him before taking out a semi-automatic Smith & Wesson and pointing it at Bella. Edward and Sam inhaled in unison, and Bella felt like she completely lost the ability to breathe.

A few people screamed before the saloon fell silent. Leah, who had exited the saloon a few seconds prior, watched the unravelling situation from outside. She immediately dialled 911.

"Well, now you have my attention," muttered James, leaning his head on the side as he eyed Bella who had raised her arms; just as Edward and Sam had done. They were both deliberating how to solve this without having anyone killed. Edward's first thought was to jump in front of James, but Sam had seen his calculating eyes and silently shook his head. He would not have his friend killed over stupidity.

"I wonder if I got famous if I killed _the_ Isabella Swan, here and now." He pointed at her heart, at her forehead, and at her heart again. "That'd be a pretty big deal, don't you think? Immediate fame. People would write books about my reasons and I would have my face plastered all over New York Times Bestsellers for killing the most promising actress of the decade. Tempting."

Edward knew that years ago, James had spent a month in a psychiatric hospital for deep obsessive-compulsive issues Edward wasn't acquainted with, but now he wondered if James also had undiscovered problems with a delusional mind. Bella was just a college graduate he'd met a few weeks ago, and not by any means a celebrity. Maybe he got her mixed up with someone famous? Either way, Edward understood James still had problems.

"James," reasoned Sam. "Don't be stupid. You're drunk. Lower the gun. We can talk this through."

"Or maybe…" James turned and pointed the gun at Edward, who took a step back, but locked eyes with Bella to wordlessly tell her to slide under the table. Sam's eyes seemed to be conveying the same message, and Bella did what their eyes ordered. "…maybe, I'll just end the life of a_ friend_ who's obsessed with taking women from me."

"Don't be stupid," whispered Edward. "You don't want to kill me."

"Oh, but maybe I do." He seemed to be sobering up the more he threatened, but the fact that James still did not comprehend the magnitude of his actions scared Edward. He did not recognise the man who had been fairly reasonable a mere month ago. Sure, James had always had problems with women (or more specifically, chasing after them), but he had not threatened anyone. They had even joked about the time he stayed in a psychiatric hospital, and he seemed fine.

But appearances can be deceiving.

James's face expressed the hatred that he seemed to gradually gain as he thought of all the things gone wrong with his life, the reason he got drunk, and the way his bald mate from college seemed eager for James to make out with the actress. Why? He no longer knew who he wanted to kill, but the thought of seeing blood from any of the people who'd cornered him made him tighten his forefinger on the trigger.

Bella had crawled out from under the table and twisted his arm up. A bullet hit the ceiling and dust fell onto the table. Bella struggled to fight under James' strength, but kicked him in the groin and kept the muzzle of the handgun aimed away from Sam and Edward. Sam tore James away from Bella while Edward attempted to tear the gun from James. He pushed James' wrist down, but the gun went off and two seconds later, James was writhing on the floor, groans leaving his lips. He unintentionally kicked his gun under the table.

Edward took a shaking Bella from Sam and hugged her with all his force. He took out his new iPhone and asked Bella how to call 911, but Leah – a slender black-haired woman in her thirties who owned the place – saw the action and explained that the police and the ambulance would be arriving soon. Sam and Leah placed James' leg on the couch to minimise the blood-flow from the middle of his foot and Sam held his palm as a pressure. James groaned incessantly.

Leah had noticed a few people leaving and walked to the door. "I will have no-one leave this place until the police arrives. They might need witnesses for whatever the hell happened here tonight, am I understood?"

Regardless, she let a woman with an infant and a crippled man leave the saloon. But everyone else stayed in their places, listening to James' moans and sharing their versions of the events which got gradually more dramatic as the night went on.

Once Leah had made sure everyone understood her request-order, she approached the actress who was quivering in shock under Edward's arm, and offered her hand. "Isabella Swan? I'm Leah Clearwater, the owner of this currently messy place. I'd like to officially apologise, I swear this place doesn't usually get as much action as it has gotten tonight. It's my fault we let things get this far."

_Isabella Swan? Officially apologise?_ Edward frowned. _How did she know her name? _He couldn't remember mentioning it.

Sam frowned, sitting on the couch while holding James' foot. "Or I could've noticed sooner that James wasn't feeling quite… _himself_ tonight. If I had seen him approach Isabella with a gun, I swear I would've kept a closer eye on them."

Edward and Leah knew Sam meant James' past with psychiatric problems. Bella stepped away from Sam in order to remain in a standing position because the scent of blood could easily change that. She couldn't stop shaking, and guessed she was in shock.

"Hell, if I hadn't gone to the bathroom, if I hadn't lingered –" started Edward, but Bella cut him off.

"Okay, enough with the guilt-trips. It was not any of your fault. You saved me from getting killed tonight." She looked at Sam and Edward. "So… thank you. I know it's not nearly enough, but… thank you."

"S'nothing." Sam felt a little awkward being thanked by the famous actress and focused his attention on the gory foot.

"Is there anything we can do for you, Isabella? Do you want to press charges?" asked Leah.

"Uh, no, thanks. And no, I don't. I didn't get hurt."

She pressed her cheek against Edward's chest and watched as Sam and Leah worked together to fix the bloody mess that was James. Edward felt as if his heart might jump out of his chest, he had been so worried about her life. Heck, he thought he'd lost her when the gun went off, but now he felt her breathing against his arm and heartbeat against his chest. He tightened his arms around her. She hummed, but kept shaking.

The police and ambulance arrived shortly thereafter. A few witnesses were questioned, James was taken to the hospital, and Bella, Edward and Sam had to go to the police station at the Town Hall to write a report and explain the entire situation once again. There was no doubt that Edward's and Sam's intentions were noble and the customers had all witnessed that Edward had not, in fact, been the one to pull the trigger, nor did he own the hand-gun that was now sitting on the table. The police officers politely thanked them and promised to bring James in for questioning once his foot had healed.

On their way back to The Virginian Lodge, a dirt-coloured cruiser stopped next to them and Leah stepped out.

"Edward, Emmett's been looking for you the entire night. Why have you turned off your phone? Neither of us could reach you."

Edward paled and untwined his fingers from Bella's. "Is it Rose?"

"Yeah," answered Leah when Sam was already opening the car door and getting in. "They've been at St. John's for three hours. Emmett sounded really uptight."

"Can you get us there?"

"Hop in."

.-*-.-*-.

The fragile-looking woman with a carefully stylised mop of black hair opened the white door and greeted the postman as he offered her the stack of mail. She signed a few papers for the packages she received and entered her small but stylish house. The woman dropped the pile on the kitchen table, bent her knees under her, and sat down to eat the quarter of a grapefruit that her breakfast had shrunk into. She observed the edge of smog further down the street with a sense of tedium and wondered why she had felt so tired lately. Perhaps she too needed some time out of the La La Land.

She drank a glass of water before opening her bills and flicking through the _Los Angeles Times_. As usual, she didn't delve into any of the major head-lines, subscribing to the newspaper was more a habit from her parents than an actual interest. It was a prelude to the stack of fashion magazines she loved to observe and the trashy rumour-filled magazines she didn't particularly like, but wanted to keep herself updated on. She couldn't participate in conversations if she knew nothing of the latest gossip.

The woman had just taken the first bite of her tiny breakfast when she burst it out in her exquisite oaken table. She coughed and rushed to wipe off the acidic substance with a towel. Having taken care of it, she sat back down and picked up the _Us Weekly_ with two fuzzy but recognisable pictures of her best friend, making out with a guy in ponytail in one of them and kissing a tall red-head in the other. The red-head's back was to the picture, but Alice could clearly see a part of Bella's profile.

She quickly read the article named _Isabella: The Closet Manizer _on page nineteen and snorted at the _…cheating on her current infatuation, Jacob…_ part. The main focus of the article was to prove that behind her claimed celibacy (reputed by "anonymous sources," not by the actress herself), Bella loved to plaster herself upon any and every man he met. Alice didn't think the article would be taken too seriously by the people who knew Bella, but it would undoubtedly sell quite a few magazines.

Alice dialled Bella's new number and counted to fifteen until her friend finally picked up the phone.

"Alice," a sleepy voice said. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Bella. The moment I leave you alone, you choose to wear the ugliest jeans gone out of fashion a decade ago with a T-shirt that must be the most disgusting shade of fern green I have ever seen? I'm disappointed."

Bella bolted upright and observed the waiting room. She rubbed her strained neck. "Alice, how the hell do you know what I'm wearing?"

"You're_ still_ wearing it? Urgh. Please find the closest shop and buy yourself some decent clothes."

"Are you here?" asked Bella, checking behind the windows and even peeking into a corridor. It was empty. Edward and Emmett snored next to her. "Where are you?" She suddenly felt ill as the only answer dawned on her. "Oh, no. Don't tell me… no. This can't be happening."

"Oh, yes. It's happening. Front page news for quite a few gossip magazines."

She wasn't sure she even wanted to know, but her curiosity got the best of her. "What am I doing in them?"

"Making out with a guy… and another guy. Honestly, Bella, I thought you only had eyes for the farmer dude? Is he the tall red-haired one or the slimy-looking one with the pony tail?"

Bella felt her face pale as she muted a groan. "Shit."


	8. The New Hollywood Project

**Disclaimer:** The Twilight Saga is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

**A/N:** I was standing in a queue, right behind an elderly woman speaking Estonian. We started to talk, she found out I was from an island right next to the one she's from, and before I could say anything, she grabbed a young man standing by her side and told us to introduce ourselves because, "You seem like a nice girl, this boy needs an Estonian - you're welcome!"

I don't think I've ever seen a guy blush as much. :D

Special thanks to my wonderful beta cascsiany for finding the time to beta, and to AliceDances01 for tolerating my PMs (I can be the most overwhelming pain in the butt - sorry!) and letting me mention her _Maybe I'm Amazed_. (Minor spoilers.) Thank you both! *curtsies*

* * *

**A Cry for the Moon  
**by Merevaik

**Chapter 8: "Are you happy now?"**

St. John's Medical Center was a relatively small and modest building on East Broadway with a parking space right across the street. Edward asked Leah to take care of Indra, to which she assured she would not dream of doing otherwise, and they exited the car.

They received necessary information from the receptionist and walked through two corridors before they saw Emmett in a waiting room. He was alone, crouching on a plastic chair and running his hands through his hair. His eyes were focused on a spot on the floor, he didn't seem to notice the noise from the small television, and he did not look up until Edward sat next to him and called his name. Even then, Emmett did not say a word, but the slight frown and pursed lips showed a question he did not voice, _Where have you been?_

Edward patted him on the back and patiently waited for Emmett to fill him in. Bella did not want to intrude and thought of searching for a coffee shop. Surely there had to be a 24/7 Starbucks _somewhere_ in this small town. She did not say a word, but once she had locked eyes with Edward, he understood. He gave her a slight nod and a faint smile. She left.

"My phone drowned a few days ago, that's why you couldn't reach me," explained Edward. "I'm sorry. I came as soon as Leah reached me."

Emmett nodded to the floor, but remained silent. Edward took out his iPhone and found out it was nearly one AM. He did not notice the sceptical glance Emmett gave him once he had seen the gift from a blatantly obvious source. He did not ask if Bella had told Edward the truth about her life. Emmett was more worried about what was happening on the other side of the door at the end of the corridor. He rested his elbows on his knees. Edward's eyes lingered on the TV screen without actually registering the content of the film.

"She kicked me out," spoke Emmett. "She told me I irritated her with my concern. So she kicked me out."

"How's she holding up?"

"Y'know her. Won't admit pain until she bursts into screams. Haven't heard any news since I brought her here. I heard the baby was in a wrong position and the next thing I knew, Rosalie told me I wouldn't be any help and I was pushed out."

Edward placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. Wanting to console him, he said, "It'll be alright."

"But how the fuck do you know that? How do we know that? We don't. Ever since the last one came out… Ever since the stillborn… fuck. I don't know if I can deal with that shit again." He took a breath. "I just… Is it so bad to ask for a healthy child? I don't give a shit about the gender, I just want to have a healthy baby." He gritted his teeth. "But – but what if it doesn't work out? What if he…"

"You'll get past that. You have to believe that."

Emmett locked eyes with him. "But what if we don't? What if the guilt is too big? Hell, we barely made it through the last one. Rose blamed herself, I blamed myself, Rose blamed me and I blamed her. Too much guilt and blame and too little communication."

"Would you…" started Edward, but paused. "You're not thinking of leaving her if the baby… if the baby…" he couldn't finish. "Are you?"

Emmett bolted upright. "Fuck, no. It won't be easy, but I would never leave her for this… I know there are – there are… alternative ways of getting children. I dunno if Rosalie would agree to… to adopt. She's so damn determined. But I wouldn't mind. A kid is a kid."

Edward breathed a sigh of relief. "Just checking. Not many women can put up with you."

A corner of Emmett's mouth rose. He appreciated Edward's attempt to cheer him up, and as his own attempt to distract himself from the overwhelming concern, Emmett asked, "How are things with you and Isabella?"

"Honestly?"

Emmett raised his eyebrows as a sort of 'duh' expression.

"Confusing," said Edward. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong. Maybe I'm just not good at the whole relationship thing. Maybe she was just trying to be nice when she said my face didn't matter. Maybe she genuinely doesn't like me. I just… I don't know what to think anymore."

"Have you talked about the distance and the…" Emmett stopped to think his words through. "Well, your lives are pretty different. Do you think she'd want the long-distance? Would_ you_ be ready for long-distance?"

"I don't know, it's all so new and sometimes I – I feel like it's all in my head. I've known her barely two weeks, for Christ's sake. We haven't really talked about any of it. We wanted to, but then, well, something interfered and now I'm here and she's out there somewhere, being polite."

Emmett hesitated, grateful to have a problem other than his own to think about. "Have you… have you talked about her occupation?"

"What do you mean?" Edward frowned. "She just finished college a few weeks ago, weren't you there when she spoke about it? She learned the Fine Arts."

Sighing, Emmett crossed his arms. "Make sure to talk to her about it."

"But her career choice isn't that important, is it? She can do whatever she wants with her degree. I won't stand in her way."

Emmett groaned quietly, not having realised how painfully oblivious Edward was to Bella's fame. "Remember to bring it up, okay?" _You have the right to know_.

Edward, surprised by his insistence, furrowed his eyebrows. "What are you not telling me?"

Emmett raised his hands in defence. "It's just… this is a small place, you know?"

Edward hunched and covered his face with his hands, realising he agreed with his older brother. As if he needed more reasons to find himself unworthy. "Fuck. You're right. She'd never be happy here." He even felt a little ridiculous talking about a potential future with a potential Bella in it.

Frustrated, Emmett ran a hand through his hair. He wanted to draw his brother's attention to one thing, and his brother would find a reason for his self-degrading behaviour. "No, that's not my point. Just remember to bring it up, okay?"

Still puzzled, Edward nodded. His eyes lingered on his obviously sleep-deprived older brother, and the bluish circles under his eyes. He could see no other indication of Emmett's worry, other than his extreme focus and uncharacteristic joking deprivation. He used to joke about anything and everything. Now he barely even smiled.

"Hey, listen," started Edward. "I'm sorry I haven't been there for you lately. I should've probably helped you with horses and shit. I'm sorry."

He sighed. "It's not like you're my nanny. And you're here _now_. You've got enough going on without attempting to care for me. I'm the one supposed to look after you, y'know?"

"Still. Just lemme know when you need a hand, we don't live that far apart to make it an excuse not to have time for each other. Okay?"

Emmett nodded.

Half an hour later, a flushed Bella arrived back from walking around the dark and extremely deserted Jackson. She had not found a 24/7 coffee shop, but bought a few snacks which she threw at Emmett and Edward. She sat next to Edward and shared a package of gummy bears with him, asked for news, and having gotten a negative answer, fell silent. They waited and dozed off one by one, and at 2:46 a doctor informed them that Rose was mentally and physically strong, but the infant hadn't turned to the right position.

At 5:30, the doctor came to inform that Rosalie might need Caesarean section. Emmett paled and started to stare at a spot on the floor. Half an hour later, a beaming nurse came with the news that the baby had turned around and Rosalie was ready to give birth to her boy. Emmett got a positive answer to his question about the baby being alive, enveloped both Edward and Bella into his arms and stayed like that until Bella expressed her difficulties breathing. Emmett tussled her hair and rested his head on the wall behind him.

A minute later, both men were in deep peaceful sleep, and Bella eyed them. She was half-asleep when Alice gave her an unexpected call with even more unexpected news. Bella sighed when she ended the call, walked to the closest store with see-through walls, and observed the magazines. Two of them mentioned her, but not in the context Alice had told her about (_10 Tips to Get Yourself Isabella's Hair_ and _Jacob and Isabella – The New Hot Couple?_), so she figured the magazines had not been brought to a small town this quickly. But in a few days, that could easily change.

The daily staff had started to arrive, patients left their wards, and Bella spent a half an hour in the corridor outside of the children's clinic, writing autographs and playing with two brothers who were recovering from a first-degree burn.

What she could not wrap her head around was that, if a person had seen and taken photos of her with Edward and James, why would the photographer not send pictures of the gun fiasco? Magazines loved that sort of drama. It was a gold-mine and it created further discussion, which sold just as many magazines if not more.

She returned to find a waiting room with an elderly couple, a single middle-aged woman and no Edward or Emmett to be seen. Confused, Bella gazed at the closed white door at the end of the corridor and decided that if they were in there, it was none of her business to interfere. So she sat down, and sleepily eyed the television. She stretched her back and watched the actors.

Her eyes widened.

"_Uh, Ma-Matt," the actor who was playing the high school boy stammered. "Jones."_

_The officer looked down his nose at Matt, and his hands went to his waist. As he did, he pushed his jacket open, revealing the gun holster and weapon strapped to his side. "Jones, huh. I've heard about you."_

_Matt's eyes widened slightly._

Bella could remember the scene with nearly perfect clarity; it became one of her favourites once she had spent an evening with Steve on the set, and once the eventual awkwardness of having such a hot co-actor wore off. She even had the slightest crush on her colleague—but at the age of twenty four— the actor Steve Lewis was very much taken. Bella, on the other hand, had still been underage. Fortunately, it became an advantage in front of the other potential actresses. Bella felt more confident playing a person older than her current sixteen, which made her perfect for the various flashbacks as well as the 'present.'

"_Sir?" asked Matt._

"_Hmmm," the cop confirmed, lips pressing into a thin line. He wasn't a particularly large man, standing a little shorter than Matt and about the same weight, but goddamn the man was intimidating!_

_The door to the back room suddenly swung open, and Lily appeared, like an answer to Matt's prayers._

"_Matt, can you give me a hand with –" she cut herself off when she spotted the officer, clearly surprised. "Hey. What are you doing here?"_

_Brow furrowed slightly, Matt wondered about Lily's reaction. He looked back at the officer and was shocked by the way the man's expression had softened._

"_Lil," he said, smiling. "Thought I'd stop in for some coffee since I'm just starting my shift."_

_She nodded, and started pouring him a cup of Columbian. "Dad, did you meet Matt?"_

_Matt froze. Dad? How was it possible that Lily had never thought to mention that her father was a cop?_

"_Yep," Officer McKague confirmed, leveling his gaze on Matt once again. Apparently the look he was giving wasn't lost on Lily, because she scowled._

"_Dad, knock it off. Matt's cool. You don't have play the intimidation game."_

The casting director of _Maybe I'm Amazed_ had called back after the intimidating casting process, and offered her the chance to play one of the main parts of a book she deeply admired. While she tried to play it off professionally ("It's an honour," and "I'm extremely grateful,") – she_ had_ gone home and spent five minutes squealing in her room. She was brought down from her cloud when Mike banged on the wall, demanding silence for his designing project.

Bella shut up. But still, it was one of her girly dreams come true. As a fantastic novel, _Maybe I'm Amazed_ was no exception to the unwritten 'the book is always better than the film' rule, but it did get enough nominations to be taken seriously.

_"How did it never come up in conversation that your dad's a cop?"_

_Lily shrugged, completely unconcerned. "Didn't seem important?"_

"_It would've been nice to have some warning," Matt grumbled. "Instead I got to stand there looking like a dumbass. I always get freaked out by police officers."_

"_Um, Chief," Lily corrected in a mumble._

"_What?"_

"_He's not an officer, he's the Chief."_

_Matt stared at her, blinking stupidly. "Your dad's the Chief of police." It wasn't a question, but Lily nodded anyway. "Fucking hell, McKague. Your dad not only carries a gun, but has the power to fuck up my life in creative, police-y ways, and you didn't think I needed to know that?"_

The door at the end of the corridor opened and Edward waved at Bella. Still taken aback by the coincidence of the film, she tore her gaze (and thought) from the TV, got up and entered the ward. Her eyes immediately fell on Emmett and Rosalie, the former crouching next to the latter, shoulders shaking and tears streaming down their cheeks. Bella's mouth fell agape, and she locked eyes with Edward. Tears stung her eyes.

"Don't tell me," she whispered. "No… no. No…"

Much to her surprise, Edward beamed a grin, enveloped her into a hug and pointed at the nurses, washing the tiny and naked and pink baby under the high sink. Bella couldn't understand how she failed to hear the baby's incessant crying before. Emmett sent a wide grin their way, not bothering to hide the fact he was crying. Bella beamed back.

"We're not actually supposed to be here," muttered Edward. "But Rosalie insisted."

The midwife sent a glare their way, and held out her hand, showing her forefinger. One minute. Bella nodded, and stepped closer to Rosalie. The baby was soon put in Rosalie's hands and Bella gaped at the adorable little boy.

"See?" Bella beamed. "I told you you were strong!"

Rosalie sighed in her sweaty mess. She was obviously extremely exhausted. "I think I'm high on drugs, but I just wanneto let you know I wanna name the baby after you."

Bella had hunched next to the adorableness of the baby, but immediately pulled back. "What? But he… He… I mean, Bella as a boy? Haven't you heard that song from Johnny Cash? His life'll be a living hell."

Emmett's gaze was fixed on the baby, he seemed completely oblivious to the significance of the conversation that was taking place in the room. Edward stood by the door, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

"It's a she," explained Rosalie. "Apparently it's common to mix it up, I mean, they told me they didn't know for sure… and I guess they were right about being wrong."

Tears stung her eyes again, but Bella smiled. "I mean, really? I can't even express how flattering that is, but, are you sure?"

Rosalie looked like she wanted to roll her eyes. "It's just a name, Jesus. Don't be all sentimental about it." She chuckled. "Emmett, you agree with this?"

"Mm?" He didn't raise his eyes from the infant.

"Do you agree to name him after Isabella?"

"Mm," answered Emmett, still completely oblivious to the conversation.

Rosalie let out a sigh. "See? All settled. Yes or no?"

"I don't – I mean. She's yours, I don't –"

"Time!" the midwife yelled, putting a hand on Bella's shoulder and starting to guide her out of the room. "She needs peace and quiet and you're not welcome here. Sleep is what she needs. You!" She pointed at Edward. "Out! Out, out, all out! This woman just gave birth and you're all acting like –" The door closed. Bella and Edward stared at each other, dopey grins covering their faces, before both fell into each other's arms and they simply stood at the end of the empty corridor, hugging.

"I'm so happy she's okay! They're okay. That's… wow."

Edward smiled when he sniffed her hair. He pulled back to lock eyes with her. "And the girl's gonna be named after you."

Bella blushed. "That's… wow. So weird in so many levels."

Still high on the rush of positive emotions, Edward cupped Bella's face. "I really want to kiss you senseless right now."

She carefully turned her face away from Edward and took a step back. Edward's smile dropped. "I'm sorry… I – I guess I… I mean, if you don't want to –" He shook his head, avoiding her eyes and mentally berating himself. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Edward." Bella snapped a finger in front of his rambling self. She smiled, taking his hand a squeezing it. "I'm not saying no, I just really need to have a talk with you before we can take things further."

She lit a glimmer of hope in his heart. "Are you gonna tell me what's holding you back?"

"Yes," confirmed Bella. "Just – let me get us a cup of coffee before that, okay? Please don't run away or anything."

Edward smiled and awkwardly motioned at the empty waiting room. "I'll be right here."

When Bella had given a coffee to Emmett and returned to the waiting room, Edward's eyes were fixed on the television. He had never been fond of films, and thus didn't know a hell of a lot about actors and actresses and movie-making, but he could swear one of those actresses felt familiar; the gentle tone of her voice, her petite features and those brown eyes.

He focused his eyes on Bella, slightly hunching to offer him his coffee, accepted the drink and looked at scene unravelling in the television.

_"Then what is it about?" Matt was very quickly reaching the limit of his self-control, and they were now shouting at each other. "We can't fix this if you don't trust me enough to talk to me! We'll be over before we even had a fucking chance, and I don't want that. So why won't you give me that much?"_

_"Because!"_

_"Because why? Because why? I need some answers, Lily, because you're driving me fucking crazy, here."_

_"Because I'm scared, okay?" she yelled back, her eyes growing unnaturally bright. "I'm fucking scared!"_

_"Scared of what?" He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation before raking them through his hair once again. "Scared of being happy? Scared of taking a chance? Scared of trusting this? Jesus Christ, Lily –"_

_"I'm scared of you!"_

_She might as well have slapped him. Instead of letting the hurt rule, though, he channeled his anger, demanding, "Why?"_

_"Because I love you!"_

Neither the voice nor the features could have been a coincidence. It clicked. Edward's eyes snapped at Bella as an elderly woman stepped next to her, slipping a paper in her hands and muttering, "Isabella? Could I please ask for an autograph?"

Bella locked eyes with Edward, so filled with disbelief. His mouth fell slightly agape and brow furrowed as he watched how Bella smiled politely, asked for the woman's name and scribbled down her signature.

It wasn't possible. She was just a Bella, his Bella; a college graduate who had learned arts in college and couldn't tell the difference between red and green.

_Isabella, you're a goddess. _Eric. _Only you and three hundred million other Americans._ The man who approached her in the saloon with a paper and a pen. _Isabella Swan? I'd like to officially apologise… _Leah. _To kill the most promising actress of the decade. _James, whom he thought to be delusional. _Have you talked to her about her occupation? Make sure to bring it up. _His own fucking brother. _We need to talk._

Isabella. Isabella. Isabella.

With self-restraint he didn't know he owned, Edward slowly placed his untouched coffee on the chair next to him and stood up. He did not look at Bella's face as he quietly and without revealing his emotions said, "I think it's time for me to go home."

Bella felt as if her intestines left her. "Edward…"

"You can come with me and spend a few nights in the house before your flight," continued Edward under his breath, speaking to the floor. "But you don't have to pretend anymore."

"I'm not –"

He inhaled and grabbed his cowboy hat. "Let's just go."

Edward turned on his heel and walked away. At first, he managed to avoid looking at anyone in particular, but once his eyes fell on a few staff members and patients, and the direction of their gaze, he knew Isabella had followed him. He felt like a stupid, oblivious fool. Every fucking soul in this town seemed to know who she was. Everyone but him. Couldn't anyone have enlightened him? _Don't get your hopes up, you're only competing against the entire male population of the world._

How encouraging.

No wonder Bella didn't take his intentions seriously.

They shopped for groceries in silence. He no longer stopped to talk to the locals; instead, he found the same small trail he'd used two weeks ago and made it clear he did not want to hear anything she might or might not say. As soon as they arrived, Edward made a half-empty excuse about checking on Ben and entered the relative loneliness of the barn. He skipped lunch, ignored Bella when she came to help him do hay, made another excuse about needing to finish tiling the roof to ignore her more successfully, and had every intention to skip dinner to avoid a point where he would have to sit down and think. Or worse, sit down and listen to _Isabella_.

No, he was better off feeling angry at the horses and hay and tiles and the cut he got from the crude ladder. But when he descended to drink some water, the girl was leaning against the house. A bowlful of pasta sat right next to a bottle of water.

"You can't ignore me forever," whispered Bella, feeling vulnerable.

Edward gave into the temptation of gulping down the dinner she had made. "Isabella." He regarded her presence without actually looking at her. "I won't have to. You'll be gone on Sunday. One more day to survive."

The way he said it,_ survive_, made Bella feel hollow.

"I'm the same person. Please call me Bella, everyone who knows me calls me that way."

"Too bad I'm the only fucking moron not to actually know you," mocked Edward, angrily shoving food into his mouth. "_Isabella_."

"Please don't say that."

"Why not? It's the truth." He felt himself get angrier by the second, and already regretted having a conversation with her. The only way to avoid showing exactly how much she had hurt him was to keep ignoring her until she left. Then he could break all the furniture he owned and stop caring altogether. The actress had clearly found some enjoyment in playing with his emotions and he did not want her to know how deeply she wounded him. He got up. "Thanks for the pasta."

"Edward." She gulped. "Please – please listen to me. I know you –"

"You have nothing to say that would interest me." He climbed on the ladder and worked until the wee hours of the morning. He got up at dawn and worked some more.

Bella spent the Saturday picking out weeds in Edward's garden and watching Edward finish tiling the roof. Her guilt buried her other worries. Bella wanted Edward to hear her reasons, even if it led to letting out the anger she knew he was keeping inside, she felt like she had no other choice than to corner him. She went to restless sleep and woke up at seven AM on a perfectly sunny Sunday morning. She went for a swim in the river, brushed her teeth and found Edward in the barn, injecting a local anaesthetic into Ben's buttocks before cleaning his wounds.

They needed to have a talk.

"Edward."

"Isabella," he replied with no emotion, and without looking up.

Bella sat on a haystack and wriggled with her hands in her lap. She decided to get straight to business before she had time to shy away from the argument. "I – I know I messed up," she started, eyeing her rugged fingernails. "And I meant to tell you, I really did, I just… I loved the way you weren't prejudiced against me and treated me like an equal."

"Forgive me, Your Highness, for not treating you like the Princess you probably are." Edward huffed. "If you had wanted to tell me, you would've told me right away. You wouldn't have led me on for two weeks before letting me see you sign an autograph right in front of me."

"I'm not who you think I am," continued Bella. "I'm still the same girl you –"

"Touché," snapped Edward, focusing on disinfecting a piece of cotton. "You are not, indeed, who I thought you were. And whose fault is that?"

"Don't do this."

"Do what? You lied to me."

"I didn't mean to lie, per se, I just didn't tell you the whole truth."

"I'm fairly certain that's considered lying in any culture you come across."

"I'm sorry." She slid a hand into her hair and tugged.

"Sorry isn't good enough. It's not going to undo what you did. Why couldn't you just tell me? I would've done so many things differently."

"Like what?"

He leaned closer to the wound, gripped tweezers and tugged out the tiny piece of wood he'd found. He continued to avoid looking at her. "Like kissing you. That was outta line from my part, sorry about that."

The obviously feigned indifference felt like a knife into her heart.

"I liked it," she admitted under her breath.

"No, you didn't. You liked to lead on a fucking naïve farmer who didn't know who you were. If you had liked it, you wouldn't have started crying."

"I just didn't want to… I wanted to tell you before we…"

"Then why the fuck didn't you, _Isabella_? What stopped you from doing it?"

She wriggled her hands, closing her eyes for a moment. "Your reaction."

"You know what? It wouldn't have been that big of a deal if you had told me right away. I would've asked if I was supposed to know you, probably made a lame joke about not owning a television and it would've been fine. But you just had to keep it in for two weeks, didn't you? This whole time when I let you be here, let you lead me on…"

Bella gulped. "I can pay for my staying here if that's a problem."

Edward snapped his head up. "_I don't care about your fucking money_! When are you going to get it through your head? I. Do. Not. Give. A. Shit. About. The. Money! You can have your iPhone back; I didn't want it to begin with. I'll start feeling like a fucking heart-prostitute if you're going to pay for your staying here!"

She sniffed, but pursed her lips together not to start crying right in front of him. "I'm… I'm sorry. Just tell me how to prove it to you that I was being sincere the whole time. What do you want me to do?"

He took a deep breath, focused his eyes on the horse and said, "Just go home. It'll be like you were never here."

Tears shimmered in her eyes as she, too, focused her gaze on the horse. "So–so these two weeks meant nothing to you?"

"No." Edward inhaled and caressed Ben's back before he finally stood up. He clenched his fists. "But they meant nothing to_ you_, and that's a shitty option for a moron like me."

"You're not a moron," whispered Bella. "And of course it meant something to me! Don't just…"

"Am I not? I think I classify as a fucking first-degree idiot." His neck flushed from anger. "Just tell me… did you mean anything you said? Or were you acting this whole time? Taking pity on the poor lonely farmer with a screwed up face and with nothing to offer to a girl? For once, be honest."

She locked eyes with him, stood up and took a step closer to him. "I never pitied you."

He gritted his teeth. "Lies! Why can't you just be honest with me? Just tell me this was a joke and you found a gullible guy to toy with for your holiday. Because that's the truth!"

"I'm not – I'm not lying," argued Bella, shying away from the anger she saw in his eyes. "Why won't you believe me?"

"_Because you're a fucking actress!_" yelled Edward, finally snapping as he threw a punch at a wall and flinched. "An actress, seriously? Out of all the jobs to have, you have to be a professional liar. Fucking fantastic! Tell me, did it feel good to make a farmer fall for a girl he could never have in real life? Am I the new Hollywood project – 'Make a farmer fall in love with a celebrity and break his heart'? I hope you're satisfied."

A tear fell on her fern green T-shirt. "Y-you – you… love me?"

"_Are you happy now?_ Fuck. Should I be searching for hidden cameras in the forest? Are you going back to LA to be interviewed by all those obnoxious show hosts and have a good laugh at me? 'Oh, yeah, he was a complete moron, didn't even know who I was. I know, right, how is that possible? Anyway, I made the fool believe I was an artist, and the idiot believed me! And then the poor bastard fell for me! Ha. Ha. Hilarious.' Tell me, do you even have a Bachelor's in Fine Arts or was that just a cover story to lie more convincingly? You're good at lying, I'll give you that. You must be a phenomenal actor!"

"Of course I have a Bachelor's in Fine Arts!" defended Bella. "Please, Edward. I never meant to lie to you! I never meant for this to… go this far."

Edward flinched. "This as in _us_, or this as in you lying to me?" He averted his eyes. "You know what? Don't answer that, I already know the answer. I just wish you hadn't made me believe long distance would become our only obstacle. You're not a mere thousand miles from me; your world is light-years away from mine! Why _did _you lead me on? Do you like playing on emotions and knowing your acting skills are good enough to fool an oblivious farmer?_ I. Feel. So. Fucking. Betrayed!_ Couldn't you have made it a little clearer you were off-limits to a mortal like me? That I had no chance to begin with?"

"But you _do_. That's what I'm trying to tell you! I know it might take a while for you to forgive me, but I – I would love it if you kept in touch with me."

"To make it _more_ painful? Fuck."

She wiped her wet cheeks. "Please! Don't let your insecurities get the best of you."

"My insecurities? Are we talking about my face or the fact I just got a slap in the face from an _actor _who faked liking me?"

"Why do you think that just because I'm an actor, I must've been faking it?"

"Because, fuck, that's what you do to a guy like me! You're fucking_ famous_! You can have anyone you want. Should I be flattered you chose to fool me for two weeks? Do you always pretend to like guys who're stupid enough to think they might stand a chance? Congratulations, you must be so proud!"

"_I wasn't fooling you_!" she emphasised. "I was _not _pretending! I–I really wanted us to have a chance…"

"And why should I believe you? You're an _actor_! You're good at that shit. Maybe you just feel bad now for hiding this from me, but how can I be sure? _How can I be fucking sure?_ How likely is it that you'd ever _sincerely_ want to be with me? Can you blame me for not believing you?"

"Can you please stop yelling so we could discuss this like normal people?" asked Bella with a wavering voice.

He bitterly noted, "Normal people, huh? Normal people. I know there is one in this room, but not the person I'm looking at. You're _famous_, Bella! How is that normal on any scale?"

She closed her eyes as tears streamed down her cheeks. "Thanks for making me feel like a freak! You know what? It's just another job! It's. Just. Another. Job. And I do not take my job home with me!"

"Seems to me you don't take your job _anywhere_. If it's just another job, why did you keep it a secret? If it's no big deal, why hide it? Other than make fun of a stupid moron who thought he – he –" He stopped suddenly. "O-other than find amusement in my naïve self?"

"How many times do I have to tell you? I wasn't pretending!"

Edward huffed in disbelief, shove a hand through the hair that fell on his face, but let more hair veil his eyes from her. His hands shook, wrist stung worse than it ever had, and he realised he wasn't far from crying. He lowered his eyes and touched the bridge of his nose to try to hide it, and avoided looking in her direction. He swallowed, his voice shrinking.

"I – I don't believe you. Sure, I've known you for two weeks, and it hurts like hell it meant nothing to you. It's just… It's just… I thought we really… I'm sorry I –" He pursed his lips and wiped his nose to his sleeve, still avoiding her eyes. "I… I'm sorry I've been so… misguided the whole time. I – I…" he paused, took a breath and pursed his lips. He didn't continue.

Bella felt more anxious with his quiet self than the yelling. "Edward, I – I truly am so very sorry. I didn't mean to lie; I didn't mean to hurt you. But I was not pretending! Why won't you believe me?"

"_Because you're a fucking actor!_" snapped Edward again, feeling so utterly exhausted from having this argument. He punched a table before wiping his face and taking a few long, deliberate breaths.

She placed a hand on her eyes, wishing that would stop her tears. "Edward, I –"

"Please leave."

Bella's hand fell from her eyes. She eyed him, half-crouching next to the shelves and his right hand holding his left wrist. Edward wiped his face with his sleeve and continued to stare at a hay-free spot on the floor. His eyes shimmered.

"Edward, please –" she pleaded, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Leave," he cleared his throat. "I – I have nothing to say to you. I'll call Eric to come and pick you up. I'm sure he'll be more than happy to spend some time with his goddess. I – I just can't – I can't– Fuck. I can't deal with this anymore."

"I don't –"

"If you ever had any respect for me, you'll leave," insisted Edward. "It'll be like you never existed."

* * *

**A/N:** I can start.

MAV THIS IS THE SHITTIEST PIECE OF CRAP I'VE EVER SEEN. YU CÄN'T RITE! YOU SHOULD GO AND BUTTBUTTINATE YOURSELF! I MEAN, HE JUST #¤%&/(%¤# WHEN SHE WAS TRYING TO #(/&%¤# AND THEN HE #(/&%¤#%#!

#(/&%¤# YOU, MAV!

Your comments continue to make my day, and thank you all who's favourited and subscribed to this story. Being the stalker I am, I always check the profiles of the people following my stories, even if you never ever comment. I know there aren't that many of you, but I'm still grateful for your kind support. Every single one of you. *blows a fangirly kiss* Thank you!

Yelling? Thoughts? Preview? :)


	9. Hypothetically Speaking

**Disclaimer: **The Twilight Saga is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended. I am a parrot.

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**A/N:** Edited by my wonderful beta cascsiany, who kindly assured me this chapter is not, in fact, a pile of goo. But just in case, don't get your hopes up!

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**A Cry for the Moon**  
by Merevaik

**Chapter 9: "Strictly hypothetically, of course."**

Bella pursed her lips, nodded and left the barn without another word. She gnawed on her lower lip, knowing she would burst into tears at any moment if she only let herself do so. Instead, she drew a hand across her face and numbly went to pack her belongings.

There were none.

She arrived empty-handed, and that's how she would be leaving. She changed into the same blue dress Edward had not liked, whether from some sick sense of self-hatred or frustration at Edward's lack of trust, she did not know. Bella didn't comb her hair, but gripped her passport, the sunglasses she intended to return later, and papers. She walked to the river and sat on the bench, facing the farmstead; for an hour and a half, she observed the place to the tiniest detail. She did not let herself think, Bella simply drowned her mind in the smallest flaws and quirks of the place where she felt more home than anywhere else she had been to.

She knew she had erased any chance of being able to come here again, even as a simple visitor. Edward wished she didn't exist. Bella bit her lip so hard she felt the taste of blood in her mouth. She didn't want to start bawling her eyes out before she left. Soon, a dirt-coloured truck pulled up in front of the house and Eric stepped out. Bella approached him, they greeted each other and Eric let his eyes wander around the farmstead. "So, where's Edward?"

Bella averted her eyes. "He's… he's in the barn. I don't think he's joining us."

"Don't you wanna say goodbye to him or something?"

She wished she were seventeen, back when life seemed so much simpler. _I love you. I love you too. Boom! Happily ever after._

"I – I can try," stuttered Bella. "But whether or not_ I_ want to say goodbye to him might not matter." She took a breath and walked to the barn, knowing she would not forgive herself if she didn't even attempt to bid Edward goodbye. Eric followed her. With a scornful scowl on his face, Edward seemed so consumed in lifting the hay into the attic he did not hear their footsteps.

Bella shifted her weight from her left foot to the right and back again. "I'm leaving."

Edward snapped his head down, his posture showing strange indifference. His eyes fell on Eric. "Hi, Eric."

"Hey Edward," answered Eric, ever the polite boy. He looked from Bella to Edward and back, sensing tension, and opened his mouth to fill the silence, but Edward had lowered his hayfork and got ahead of him.

"Would you mind giving us a sec?"

"I, uh, of course…" said Eric, motioning at the exit. "Isabella? I'll wait by the car."

"Thanks," responded Bella, noticing Edward's frown at the mention of _Isabella_.

Once they were alone, Edward descended from the pile of hay, but avoided looking at the actress. Bella controversially observed his face with fascination. The scar made him seem much more vulnerable, and yet, the complete lack of emotion on his face scared her. She took a step closer, but Edward walked to the saddle and took out a piece of leather. He approached her without actually raising his eyes from the floor.

"I want you to have it." He placed the strip of leather in her palm. Bella frowned and tilted her head closer to examine the bracelet with a few angular wooden pearls. Edward continued before Bella could utter a word. "It's ugly and not the million-dollar jewellery that you probably wear in your everyday life. I don't care if you throw it away the moment you leave my land. But I wanted you to have it. "

Tears shimmered in her eyes when she attempted to take Edward's hand, but he flinched away, still refusing to lock eyes with her. Bella tried not to show how much that hurt her.

"Thank you, Edward," whispered Bella. "I don't know how to ever –"

A cold item followed the bracelet. "Edward…"

"It's yours. I don't want it."

She gulped. "But the phone was a gift! Please have it."

He shook his head, still speaking to the floor. "No. If you give that to me, I'll need to pay you back, and I really can't afford that."

"I don't want you to pay me back."

He sighed. "And I couldn't live with myself if I didn't, so we're screwed. Please take it back, Isabella."

Seeing no other way, she reluctantly accepted the iPhone. They stood in silence, Bella staring at Edward's face and Edward staring at a spot on the wall behind Bella.

"I guess, I guess this is it," said Bella, feeling awkward. "I – I had the best vacation here. Thank you." She took a breath, biting her lip as she observed his face. "I'll never forget you. Please take care of yourself."

Edward's face twisted into a grimace. He hoped to forget Bella as soon as she left his land, and yet he felt so pained he didn't think that would happen. But he hoped it would.

He nodded, appearing rather indifferent in Bella's eyes. She felt her throat tighten, and before Edward could understand what was happening, she hugged him with all her force and muttered something into his chest. He didn't have time to react before she let go, turned about and jogged out of the barn.

Out of his life.

Edward closed his eyes, drowning in the scent of her while he listened to the roar of an engine as it got more silent until the noise stopped altogether. He felt numb, as if the body he occupied belonged to someone else.

How could he have thought a girl like Bella would ever consider him? Edward felt utterly deceived. He had more than enough doubts about her intentions – did she herself believe the things she told him? How likely would it be that their relationship worked out, even if Bella had been sincere? The chances of that, of course, were laughable, but it wouldn't have worked out either way. It couldn't have.

It was best that he provided her a chance to let him go easy than to drag out the end that would have come anyway. He was nothing but a summer fling. Did she have a boyfriend in LA? Edward fisted his hands, taking deep breaths. She probably did. Someone rich and famous with an impeccable sense of humour and taste in fashion. Edward imagined Bella together with a faceless hunk who swept her off her feet on a daily basis and bought her flowers every day.

Edward felt ill. He rubbed his injured wrist in anger, wondering if he would feel better once he had broken something. It wouldn't hurt to try. He observed his already painful fist with a strange fascination before he approached the nearest stall, raised his right hand and pushed it forward with all his force. It cracked. He crouched, inhaled sharply and fell to the floor, holding his hand and groaning. A horse neighed.

It did, apparently, hurt to try.

Edward pushed himself off the floor, hunched and leaned on the wall, letting out curses. He felt nauseated. By the feel of pulsating pain between his knuckles and wrist, he knew he had broken a bone or two. Blood covered his knuckles and jeans. He got up and exited the barn in the hopes to find Indra. He touched his pocket to feel if he had put his wallet away. Luckily, he had not.

His faithful horse was lying on the burnt grass under the oak tree. Edward caressed her gently. Indra stood up and Edward straddled her with a few difficulties. Indra had no saddle, but Edward did not care. He left the barn door wide open and the house unlocked. Who'd want to come to think God forsaken place anyway? He had nothing valuable.

After two and a half hours of slow and uncomfortable horse-riding, Edward tied Indra to a tree right next to the parking lot across St. Johns. He calmly explained the purpose of his visit to the receptionist and walked to the waiting room, one that looked like a dead ringer of the one he'd been in with Bella. As an attempt to avoid painful memories, Edward did not sit; instead, he knocked on the familiar door with his left hand while carefully holding his wrist stiff. A nurse opened it and invited Edward in, but left the room herself. Doctor Joshua Uley sat behind a large desk, pushing up the frameless glasses that had fallen too low. Edward closed the door while the frown on Dr. Uley's face grew more pronounced. He stood up.

"Edward?" Dr. Joshua Uley placed a hand on Edward's shoulder in a familiar manner, guiding him to the chair next to his desk. He had always had an uncanny ability to make Edward feel like a twelve year old. Dr. Uley's hair was not as black as Edward remembered it and he had grown a small pouch, but the warm voice was familiar as ever.

"Dr. Uley." Edward gave him a nod and sat down. He would have wriggled with his hands had his hands not been so painfully… well, painful.

"How many times have I told you to call me Josh?"

"Many."

"So why won't you?"

Edward shrugged, still feeling like a kid. "It doesn't feel right. Habit, I guess."

Dr. Uley hummed, sliding his chair in front of Edward before he sat down and locked eyes with his patient. Edward felt like he saw right through him.

"And why are you covered in blood today, Edward?"

Edward stretched out his right arm. "I think it's broken."

The doctor accepted his arm, observed the purple swelling between his wrist and knuckles, and started to clean the wounds. He looked at him above his glasses. "That's not an explanation. Did you get into a fight?"

"No," replied Edward.

Dr. Uley raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Instead of lightening up, Sam's father frowned and hummed. He liked to think the best of people, and in search of better answers that lingered in his mind, he asked, "Fell off a horse? Slipped somewhere?"

"No," answered Edward, knowing where this was going. "I hit a wall."

"I see." Dr. Uley felt disappointed to admit that Edward's claim held no surprise for him. "You hit a wall. May I ask why?"

"I was angry," explained Edward. "Could you please do an X-ray?"

"I will." The Doctor did not, however, get up. He stared down the boy that had grown up next to his son, contemplating the solutions to Edward's problem. He hadn't seen him in the Emergency Room for three years, and thought Edward had abandoned his habit to harm himself whenever he felt emotionally challenged. Joshua Uley felt like too much of an optimist. Perhaps he was getting old.

Feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, Edward shifted his weight, holding his composure when his left wrist stung.

"The X-ray?" reminded Edward, thinking that maybe Joshua Uley had been lost in his own thoughts. He hadn't rubbed his chin, which was a good sign. Whenever Edward had ever been in trouble, or the results of an X-ray showed that he had fractured a bone – which had happened significantly often – Sam's father absent-mindedly started to rub his chin. Edward didn't think realised it himself, and Edward had no intention of letting him know he had the tendency to do it. It provided Edward the chance to see the result before Dr. Uley had said the words.

Dr. Uley hummed in agreement and made a call. "Dr. Perkins? Yes… Do you know if the X-ray is free? …twenty minutes? Perfect… Thank you."

He put away the phone and sighed, locking eyes with Edward. Dr. Uley raised his right hand and slid his forefinger back and forth across his chin.

"Have you ever considered seeing a psychologist?"

"Why?" asked Edward, wary. "I'm not insane."

"Oh, no, Edward," Dr. Uley rushed to correct himself, knowing the misconception of psychiatry. "Of course you are not. But you do need help. You've done this to yourself before. This is not your first time to end up here with a problem like this."

"I'm not a masochist," insisted Edward. "I don't find enjoyment in pain. And I don't have anger problems."

"I'm not accusing you of masochism. I've known you since you were a kid, and as far as I can tell, you don't have self-defeating personality disorder. As you already told me, your harm is not a reason for you to feel enjoyment. No, it's not a _cause_. But it _is_ a result of undirected emotions. You cannot continue breaking your bones when you feel upset or hurt or vulnerable. You cannot literally beat yourself up for the unfortunate situations you find yourself in."

"But I –" started Edward, wanting to rub his neck, but not being able to. "But I don't… no-one else gets hurt. That's positive, isn't it? I know I've had my fair share of fights, but I swear I've never attacked anyone without a reason. I have never ever hit a woman. I am not a threat to the society or however the fancy wording goes."

"But Edward," argued Dr. Uley. "You are a threat to _yourself_."

Sam's father could tell that Edward wanted to disagree and tell him, _So? Who cares about some random loner?_ But Edward knew that once the words left his mouth he might as well stamp 'masochistic behaviour' on his forehead. He held his mouth closed.

"Do you understand what I'm saying? I'm not claiming you're a nutcase, but ever since Carlisle passed away, you've been dealing with emotions differently. It's like your desire to punish yourself is far greater than the will to accept that not everything is your fault. Express your anger differently. Find another incentive. Just, please, don't continue being your own abuser."

Edward resented his words. Sam's father might've been a smart man, but he knew nothing of how exactly Edward's father found his death. Not many people did.

"I've never thought everything is my fault. I didn't hurt myself as a punishment. I am not responsible for being deceived. I fully understand that. Besides, it's just a few broken bones," said Edward quietly. "They'll heal."

"Yes, but then what?"

Edward frowned. "Then it's all alright again."

"Until you find another reason to thrash your fist through the wall? Is your health so directly dependent on your emotional state that if you hit the bottom of despair, you'll punish your own body?"

His patient remained silent, watching his purple swollen hand.

"I'm going to give you a number for Dr. Peter Doman. He's a friend of mine." He scribbled down a number and an address for the aforementioned man and held out the sticky note to Edward. "Please give him a call."

"Thanks, but I'm not interested in discussing my personal life with strangers. You make it all sound so dramatic. It's fine. I'm fine. I'm not ill."

Having expected stubbornness, Dr. Uley attached the note on the table and asked, "Since your father passed away, how many times have you ended up in the hospital?"

Edward had not learned to speak of his father in a casual conversation, and closed his eyes before answering. "I can't remember the exact number."

"Nine times in six years. Do you know how many times of them were self-inflicted? Including the times you claimed to have fallen off the roof, of course."

Edward had not known Dr. Uley had doubts about his injuries. "I was an active teenager."

"Please, Edward. You're an intelligent man. I know for sure that seven of the cases were self-inflicted. _Seven_, Edward. At least once a year."

Edward had no response. He wanted to tell him to mind his own business, but the truth was, he _was_ minding his business. Dr. Uley had always been his General Practitioner.

"The first time wasn't intentional," explained Edward with reluctance. "I didn't give myself a concussion."

Joshua Uley's face softened. "I know. It's not likely a fifteen year old would know how to induce a coma. But what happened with your father started it. Don't you think it's time to discuss it with someone?"

"I've discussed it with Emmett. And the only other person I had considered discussing it with turned out to be someone I couldn't trust," he admitted bitterly, "so that option flew out of the window."

Relieved, Dr. Uley continued, "So you're not directly opposed to talking about it?"

"Not to strangers," explained Edward. "Not a random dude with a PhD in Psychology. Thank you for the number, and I'm sorry, but no."

Dr. Uley sighed. "If so, how can I be sure you won't harm yourself again?"

"You can't," said Edward simply and stood up.

"I'm afraid that's not an answer I can accept."

A little taken aback, Edward said, "With all due respect, Dr. Uley, but you can't force me to accept help I do not need."

"Arguable, Edward. Whether or not you need help should be for professionals to decide."

"I don't need a professional to tell me I've got problems. Everyone does."

"Not everyone rams their fist through a wall when they're angry."

"It certainly distracted me enough to be thinking of my hand rather than my emotions," said Edward without thinking. It was the wrong answer. Dr. Uley stood up, walked around the table and eyed him without a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Could you repeat what you just said and not say you have masochistic tendencies?"

"I'm not doing it for enjoyment," protected Edward. "It's a distraction."

"Can you hear what you're saying? You're causing damage to your body to _distract_ yourself."

"I know." _And it works_, he wanted to add, but did not. Dr. Uley pressed his fingers on his chin, thinking through what he needed for Edward to realise. The purse on his lips lightened as he watched the vulnerability of the man standing in front of him. He remembered a time when Edward did not stand at six foot four, when a dark scar did not cover most of his face and when he rode a horse alone for half a day to be able to play with Sam.

"Could you please come back once you're done in the X-ray? I will not force you into anything, but I'd like to propose."

Had it been any other situation, Edward would have roared of laughter. But he merely nodded and walked out of the room, feeling unexpectedly exhausted from lack of sleep and overload of emotions. The X-ray revealed three bone fractures; two metacarpals and one carpal, he was told. In simpler language, the bone starting from index finger and middle finger knuckles to his wrist had broken, and one wrist bone. He could move his pinky finger, but it hurt like hell. He spent an hour with a nurse and an intern who made him a cast, waited for a half an hour behind Dr. Uley's office and nearly slumped in the seat when he got back to Sam's father.

Dr. Uley eyed the cast before he took off his glasses to wipe off the dust. "Tired?"

"Yeah." Edward shifted. "Quite a day."

"I won't hold you for long," assured Dr. Uley. "I just wanted to ask you – do you trust me?"

He was not rubbing his chin. A good sign.

"Of course I do…"

"Do you trust me enough to start filling me in on the story of your father?" asked Sam's father, holding Edward's gaze. "I do not care for prying, and my promises of privacy are not only backed up by my character, but by my occupation. I see no other way."

Understanding his message, Edward straightened his back. "You want to become my psychiatrist?"

"I'm not a stranger."

"You're not a psychiatrist, either."

"That is true."

"But you still want to be my psychiatrist?"

"A decade in medical school might not have made me one, but I'd like to think I understand the human mind quite well. Think of it as having conversations with your friend. Nothing official."

They stared at each other, neither blinking, until Edward muttered, "I can't pay you."

Sensing victory, Dr. Uley let a hint of a smile cover his lips. "I don't want you to."

"But then you're wasting your time."

"I want to help you. Helping someone is never a waste of time."

"What if you can't?"

"Then I can't. But I will have tried, and that makes all the difference in the world."

Silence hung between them as Edward argued with himself, knowing he didn't feel comfortable enough to be talking about anything too personal, but at the same time, realising Dr. Uley might have had a point. At least Dr. Uley could make an argument that he could rewind and digest, and if he could not change his ways of coping with emotions, then nothing would change, which sounded just as bad or good as a change.

"When can we start?"

The smile that stretched across Joshua Uley's face did not falter when he saw that Edward was not as happy. He scribbled down a time that suited for the both of them, and raised his hand to shake Edward's. Having no other choice, Edward offered his left hand, but only realised what a colossal mistake he made once Dr. Uley gripped his hand.

He grimaced and flinched away. Dr. Uley frowned, standing up and taking a step forward.

"What was that?"

"S'nothing," denied Edward.

Dr. Uley's frown deepened, and the smile vanished. "'It's nothing' is obviously something, or you wouldn't have made such a sour face. Show me your hand."

"S'nothing," repeated Edward, standing up. "Thanks for the help."

"Edward…" warned Dr. Uley. "Don't play games with me. Please show me your hand."

Edward reluctantly lifted his left arm while Dr. Uley made him sit down again. Edward grimaced when Dr. Uley touched his wrist and hand, tapping and pressing occasionally.

"What happened?"

"Nothing, really. It's been like this for a few years now."

"Years, Edward? _Years_?"

"It wasn't this bad at first, it's been worse this summer. Usually I don't even notice it."

"And it never occurred to you to go to the doctor?"

Edward sighed. "It's not a big deal. It's just a little painful."

It usually took a lot to make Dr. Uley frustrated, but the edges of his ears reddened as he asked, "Do you mind if I do a few tests? Nothing time-consuming." Without waiting for an answer, he started to tap on Edward's wrist more methodically, and once Dr. Uley hit a particularly sensitive spot on his wrist, Edward snapped his hand away from the shock-like sensation.

"I thought so." Dr. Uley hummed, gripping Edward's arm above his wrist. "Phalen's manoeuvre will be trickier. Can you hold your forearms upright, point your fingers down and press the backs of your hands together?" He guided his hands into the right position. "Right. Now, hold your hands like that for a minute."

Not being able to deny that Dr. Uley had a reason for his tests, Edward complied, but started to feel a burning pain before it changed into numbness in his thumb, index and middle finger. He shut his eyes, but soon felt Dr. Uley put his hands down. Sam's father sighed. "Does it wake you up at night?"

"Sometimes."

He continued with a series of questions about the nature of Edward's wrist pain and rubbed his chin with more vigour the more answers he got. Edward felt wary of the diagnosis, but the question about waking up at night reminded him of a conversation with Bella, and that brought on suspicions.

"Carpal tunnel syndrome," confirmed Dr. Uley. "Seems serious, too."

Edward slumped a little, knowing that if he had seen a doctor sooner, he might have been able to avoid the severity and the disappointed look in Sam's father's eyes.

"What can I do?"

"Rest your hand for at least three weeks. A splint needs to be made for you, but right now, I'm going to wrap your hand in a bandage. No twisting, bending or pressure. You can try taking vitamin B6 and put ice on it if the pain gets too intense."

"So, basically, I'm crippled."

Dr. Uley sighed, sliding his chair in front of his patient. "I'm not going to be smug and tell you about karma, and I cannot be sure the diagnosis is caused by the times you've hurt yourself. It might be true, but not necessarily. But you do need to realise you can't hurt yourself without expecting some permanent damage to your body, am I understood?"

Edward nodded. "But if I do follow your instructions for three weeks, will it heal by itself?"

"Honestly? I'm afraid not. Carpal tunnel syndrome doesn't vanish overnight. In some cases, it's a temporary situation, but in other cases, people might struggle with variations of pain throughout their whole lives. I would hope you fall into the former, but I cannot assure you of anything. Carpal tunnel release is possible, but the result of the surgery cannot be guaranteed."

"How much is it?"

"Around eight grand." Edward grimaced. Dr. Uley nodded, understanding his expression. "I would try out all other alternatives before we get to that: acupuncture, chiropractic care, yoga. If it gets worse, you can go under the knife. But as I said, recovery is not guaranteed."

Edward sighed, wanting to rub his neck, but knowing he was unable to do so. "I can't be immobile for three weeks. I've got over twenty horses to take care of. They don't train or put oats and water in front of themselves."

"I understand," said Dr. Uley. "But you should've thought of that _before_ deciding to test the strength of your walls. You don't want to risk permanent damage to your hands. Please find a friend or hire a helper. I'm sure you'll think of something."

A tap at the door was followed by a nurse, reminding him that a patient was waiting for Dr. Uley. Sam's father raised his hand to show he needed five minutes. Edward shifted in his place.

"Should I go?" He started to get up. "You have patients waiting for you."

Dr. Uley placed a hand on Edward's shoulder to make him sit down, and said, "Mrs. Samuels' rheumatism won't worsen during the five minutes I need." He went to the drawer, took out a roll of white bandage, sat in front of Edward and started wrapping the bandage around Edward's hand.

Edward sighed as he watched the action, voicing his concerns, "What if my case is one of those permanent ones and it gets worse? I cannot change occupation."

"You can always take frequent pauses in the middle of work to rest your hand and be careful. And not ram your fist through a wall. Preferably." He eyed Edward until the twenty four year old farmer lowered his gaze. "Besides, why could you not change your occupation? You have a Master's in Architecture, don't you?"

"Architectural Engineering. I'm also a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine."

Dr. Uley's eyes widened, and he shifted his chair closer to the table. "You're telling me you have _two_ _unused_ degrees and you're spending your time piling horse dung and claiming you cannot possibly change occupation? Are you serious?"

"You make it seem like I should be ashamed of myself," said Edward, defensive. "I'm fond of horses. I get along with them."

Still puzzled by this piece of information, Dr. Uley argued, "But you're smart, Edward. Not just anyone can learn Veterinary and Architecture side by side _and_ get both degrees."

"Didn't have much of a life back then." Edward shrugged. "And I'm a Vet only theoretically. I didn't have the chance to go to General Practice. I spent a week in internship before my mom died. Anyway, I lack experience. Same goes for the Architectural Engineering."

"But the fact remains. You could finish that internship and have a job as a veterinarian. Or you could apply to a job as an architectural engineer. It would put less pressure on your wrist. Everyone's an amateur until they work hard enough to be experienced at what they do. I'm sure you know that."

"You're forgetting the fact that I live in the middle of nowhere."

A hint of a smile played on Dr. Uley's lips. "You could buy a car. And a computer. And get internet access. You know, join the rest of the civilisation." He finished surrounding Edward's hand with the gauze. Edward stared at his hands, both wrapped in white dressing and both incredibly painful.

"You're free," said Dr. Uley, handing Edward the sticky note with their agreed time on it. "See you on Saturday?"

"Yeah." Edward stood awkwardly in front of Dr. Uley. "Thanks for everything."

"No problem," reciprocated Dr. Uley. "You're not a bad man, Edward. Nor are you a masochist. You're just a little reckless at times."

"I know." He stepped out of the room, and thoughtfully wandered toward the exit until he remembered that Rosalie and Emmett must've been still in the hospital. He turned on his heel, hoping to stop by a cafeteria to get some food into his growling stomach. He hadn't eaten since Bella's pasta yesterday.

Bella…

Edward's stomach twisted in pain. He had hoped to avoid thinking of the girl, but he couldn't help but wish he had a person he could trust and discuss his problems with. Not someone who told him what to do, but someone who listened without judgement. Edward didn't know if Bella would've done that, but he liked to think she would have. If she hadn't turned out to be someone else, that is.

Once in the quiet cafeteria, Edward slid his eyes across the menu and greeted the elderly man behind the counter.

"I'd like to order chicken…" he trailed off, his eyes falling on the magazine with _Isabella: The Closet Manizer _on the front page. He forgot what he was saying.

"Sir?"

Edward shifted. "Uh, yeah, chicken with rice. Orange juice." He awkwardly motioned at a magazine no man would willingly buy. "And that magazine over there." But he noticed one other front page with Bella's face, accompanied by a handsome man and a headline that drained all colour off Edward's face. It was one thing to imagine Bella with someone rich and famous, it was fully different to have a picture and a headline plaster it all over his feelings. Edward felt physical pain at the sight of the picture.

The man behind the counter hesitated. "Are you alright, sir? You seem awfully pale suddenly. Do you need a doctor?"

"Um, no. Just a cold." He fake-coughed and motioned at the vague direction of the second magazine. "And that one, too. Thanks."

He could not tear away his eyes from the torturing headline, _Jacob and Isabella – The New Hot Couple? _

_We need to talk_ suddenly made sense in a wholly different way. He hadn't had a chance to begin with.

Edward retreated to a table in a corner, quietly ate his brunch and did not give a second glance at the magazines he'd bought. He rolled them up once he left to see how Rosalie and Emmett were doing. He needed to come to terms with her fame before he could start reading about Bella's life in a magazine.

It felt surreal.

.-*-.-*-.

Back in Masen's Oak, Edward spent the entire evening in a more deserted solitude he ever remembered experiencing. Every door's creak, hoof's tap and gust of wind suddenly seemed to mock his isolation, and he attempted to neglect the heinous feel of loneliness. Before Bella, he had come to terms with the inevitable lack of company that his choice of abode brought about. Now, every monologue he uttered, every order he gave to a horse and every time he heard his own voice echo reminded him that there would be no response. She wasn't there.

It wasn't at all as if she hadn't existed. It was as if she found a way to continue her existence in his head.

There didn't seem to be a place in this whole farmstead that wouldn't have elicited a memory of and with her. He could not for the life of him get her out of his head.

It drove him nuts.

Was it even possible to fall in love with someone in two weeks? Was he really in love with her? He didn't know. But it hurt a lot. A whole lot more than the end of any relationship had before and he hadn't even pursued a relationship with her.

It was nearly sunset when Edward stopped struggling to bring oats and water to the horses with one (barely) functioning hand. He sat on the doorframe he had made a mere week ago and rested his head on the side of the doorframe. The sunset was beautiful. He thought of finding a way to contact Sam or Jessica to ask them if they could help him for a while, of his father, of Emmett's joy over his daughter and of a future where he might have had to continue his education or find a nine-to-five job. He wished he had the answers.

Would he be sitting here in that exact doorframe forty years from now, in complete solitude? The idea frightened him.

He thought of Bella. It was so unfair, the way she got away with no strings attached or maybe a little bit of guilt while he had to consciously suppress thinking too much about her. Why couldn't she have been just another girl? Could he move on just like she probably would? No, for her it was nowhere to move _on_, it was moving _back_ to the arms of the guy on the front page of the magazine.

Edward couldn't help but feel bitter. It wasn't fair.

When he attempted to get up, his eyes fell on an object on the top log a few feet from him. She hadn't taken the phone with her after all. Edward had no idea what to do with it, but he knew he couldn't just leave it there. He did not want to use it.

But he needed to.

He weighed it in his palm, arguing with himself until he gave up and strolled to the woodshed, opened a drawer, took out a notebook and dialled a number. Sam picked up immediately, and while he was glad to hear from Edward, he apologised profusely; he had too many obligations in The Virginian Lodge to help his friend. Edward figured as much. He dialled another number, reaching Matthew and Grace, both of whom wanted to help him, but were waiting for the baby to get home to help Rosalie. Edward's eyes lingered on the line with Victoria and Laurent, but knew he couldn't expect them to work more than the oncoming thermal insulation for the second floor of his house.

The chances of Jessica agreeing were minuscule, especially since he had ditched her a few weeks prior, but he didn't have many options to weigh. He dialled the number with meagre hope. After overcoming the initial shock of Edward's call and hearing his problem, Jessica actually agreed. She told Edward she could start on Tuesday, asked if she would be staying overnight and if she should bring her tent. With a relieved but faint smile, Edward told her to do whatever she felt comfortable with.

If he thought Bella's absence affected his mind at the barn, it held nothing against the smell of strawberries on his pillow and sheets. Edward groaned as he started to tear off the cloth, but halted to a stop a few seconds later. He felt weak, and more than a little pathetic, but he realised he didn't really mind the smell of her. He laid down, closed his eyes, and it was like she was there, with him.

He hugged his pillow and stared at back of his eyelids until two AM.

Matthew arrived on Monday evening to offer his much needed help. He asked about Bella's absence, and while Edward muttered his not so false 'things didn't really work out' theory, he felt a pang of pain in his stomach at the mention of her. He still hadn't updated himself on Bella's situation and did not even know if he wanted to open that magazine.

Time seemed to move backwards when Edward was left to his own means, but fortunately, Jessica arrived on a foggy Tuesday morning with an old Volkswagen Caddy pick-up truck. Edward greeted her by raising both of his arms and showing his incapacitated state while Jessica gasped and rushed to his side. He shrugged it off and explained the situation with as few words as possible. He also offered to unofficially employ her for at least two weeks. Jessica agreed.

They fell into a routine. Edward helped as much as he could, they kept each other company, and Jessica chattered about the newest gossip in her vague English accent. Edward listened; or, truthfully, he _heard_, but didn't register the words unless she directly addressed him.

"Oh, bullocks, Edward. Did you hear what I just said?" whined Jessica, tired from the day's work. Thursday evening had brought wind even to this becalmed side of valley, and it howled against the barn's roof. Edward hadn't realised how incredibly close Jessica had stepped, and he locked eyes with her.

"I'm sorry?"

"I wanted to know how you know Isabella Swan," repeated Jessica. "Y'know, you never did explain what happened to her."

He sighed. "She had to go back to LA."

"But are you two, like, a thing now?"

Edward considered his answer – he could say they were, and risk the whole town getting the false impression, or he could admit the truth and risk _Jessica_ getting the false impression. He decided to go with the latter.

"Uh, no." He laughed humourlessly. "Not really."

A smile stretched across Jessica's lips, and she nudged Edward with her hips. He offered a hesitant smile, wondering if he made the right choice; he'd had doubts about Jessica's advances, and he tried to discourage her as subtly as possible. He was in no place to accidentally pick up a quarrel with the only person who had time and will to help him. _Did Jessica agree to this because she thought she could get closer to me that way? Was that the reason?_

Before he could move away from her, Jessica accidentally-on-purpose lunged her hayfork into the haystack with too much force and bumped into Edward. He landed on top of the haystack and she fell onto his muscled chest. She giggled. He pursed his lips. Edward's body immediately understood there was a hot female body on top of him, but his heart felt constricted. It felt wrong.

Jessica stopped giggling, stared into his eyes, his lips, and back again. When Edward hadn't stopped her, she lowered her face to his, and just as her lips brushed against his, Edward snapped out of it. He gripped her shoulders; not strongly, but firmly enough to let her know this was not okay. Hurt, Jessica rolled off of him and hunched next to him. He sat next to her.

"I–I don't understand," said Jessica. "What's wrong with me?"

Edward let out a sigh. "There's nothing wrong with you, Jess. Please don't take it personally."

Jessica raised her watery eyes to his. "It's her, isn't it?"

He opened his mouth to argue, but when nothing came out, he averted his eyes.

"Thought so. I saw the way she looked at me, like a competitor." Jessica nodded a little sadly. "It's just, I've never been in love, y'know? Twenty five years old, and never been in love. I want to feel what it's like when you feel physical pain to be away from the one you love. And you seemed so lonely, so I thought, why not? I just wanted to see if we _could_ have something. I dunno, some hidden chemistry or something."

"That's it?"

"Well, yeah. And if we don't, then, well, we don't."

Edward eyed her form, considering her words. Really, why not? If he fell in love with Jessica, it would solve the main problem. Having made a decision, he locked eyes with her, and with a pang of guilt he had no business feeling, he placed his left hand on her neck and pressed his lips to hers. She responded eagerly, and let his tongue into her mouth. It wasn't strictly horrible, but he couldn't help but imagine a different face and taste and feel. He felt absolutely no chemistry. Jessica raised her hand to his face, but snapped it away, breaking apart and looking embarrassed.

"Your scar bothers me. I'm afraid to touch it."

Instead of feeling insulted, Edward chuckled. "Your constant gossip bothers me."

"I talk a lot, don't I?" mused Jessica. They gazed into each other's eyes, and a mere three seconds later, both grimaced.

"I kept imaging… never mind. I'm sorry," apologised Edward. "But nothing."

"Me neither. No butterflies, nothing," sighed Jessica. "I'm sorry I forced you into this."

"You didn't," assured Edward, still feeling a little guilty. "I was a little curious, too. Don't give up, okay? He's out there somewhere. I'm sorry I'm not your guy."

"Me, too," agreed Jessica, and stood up. "Friends?"

Edward offered her a small smile. "Friends."

.-*-.-*-.

"But still," continued Jessica as if they hadn't finished their conversation three days ago. "You never did explain how she got here. And why you look like shit."

"Thanks." He ran a gauze-wrapped hand through his hair and crouched. They were eating lunch by the riverbank. The sky was blue as ever, but the growing wind tussled their hair and clothes. "She was on a vacation, happened to need help and ended up spending a few weeks here."

"But why didn't it work out between you two?"

For the first time since finding out he'd fallen in love with – or come as close to it as he ever had – an unattainable actress, Edward felt incredibly embarrassed about his oblivion.

"I didn't…" he trailed off, feeling his neck flush. Bella wasn't even here, and he was still blushing because of her. "Pathetically enough, it was unrequited." For a brief moment, he hid his face behind the hand that was in a plaster cast. "I didn't exactly know who she was when we met."

Jessica chuckled, frowning playfully. "What do you mean?"

"That's exactly what I mean. I didn't know she was famous up until a few days ago."

Jessica let out a dramatic and almost comic-sounding gasp. "You're kidding me."

"No." Edward grimaced. "Not one bit."

"But Edward, you can't be serious! How's that possible? I mean, that's_ Isabella Swan_ we're talking about! Ever heard anything about _Alone_, _Hunter_, _Maybe I'm_–"

Edward waved a hand in front of Jessica's animated talking and continued to cringe as he cut her off. "Not helping."

"Sorry," said Jessica. "I'm just so surprised. She's, like, a big deal, Edward. She's a_ very_ big deal."

"Still not helping," mumbled Edward.

"Sorry!" repeated Jessica. "But what do you mean it was unrequited? The way she looked at you, Edward. You don't fake that. Besides, did you ask her?"

A flash of pain crossed his eyes. "No. I didn't have to. And that look you're talking about was probably pity. It's not like I blame her, I mean – look at my face, Jess. It's not exactly something you'd want to exhibit to a wider audience. She might not know it right now, but I saved her from a shitload of embarrassment."

"Aw." Jessica put her hand on his shoulder as a friendly gesture. "You don't mean that. There's nothing wrong with you, you're a very attractive man."

"Sure I am," answered Edward with sarcasm. "Are you speaking of my appealing face, my impeccable etiquette manners, or the incredible aroma of horse dung that follows me whenever I pile shit?"

She snorted. "When you put it like that…"

Edward chuckled, finishing his lunch as he explained that he would be going to Emmett's that evening and directly to Jackson from there the next day.

He had to admit that his original opinion of Jessica had shifted; she was not at all as airheaded as he had thought. They actually got along really well, and she was a great distraction, but the hole in his chest neither diminished nor vanished. He hid it quite well, but it still hurt how foolishly he managed to grow unrequited feelings for the one woman he would never see again who was so beyond his league it felt like a different universe.

Edward no longer used the shortcut that evening (not that he could have, even if he wanted to), and he avoided lingering on the plateau where his parents were buried. He didn't know if he felt sad or frustrated or just plain tired from the routine that his life consisted of, but was content to discover nothing but a seemingly empty house ahead of him. He took his horse to the barn, gave her some oats and a drink, took out the unread rolled-up magazines from his pouch and entered the house.

He heard Rosalie's singing from upstairs, and smiled a little to himself. Feeling like home, as always, and knowing Emmett was aware he would be around; he turned on the lights, dropped the magazines onto the table and made a cup of coffee for himself. Once Edward sat down with his drink, he uncrumpled both of the magazines and observed them without much eagerness. There, inside these pages, laid a part of the story that formed the Bella he had not known.

Honestly, he felt scared to read it. He didn't know if he wanted to have all his illusions about her character crushed. The picture of Jacob and Bella struck his insecurities in a way that made him want to throw the magazine into the fire and never hear from their perfect life again.

Instead, he drank half a cup before observing the first magazine. He slid his immobile fingers across the picture of Bella before finding page nineteen and reading the story. As disappointed as Edward was in Bella, and as deceived as he felt, even he had to admit the story wasn't believable; especially since the situation with James was purposefully misconceived.

Unsurprisingly, he had been labelled Scarface. The nickname was neither original nor new for Edward. He did not care what they called him. _An oblivious moron would've probably been a more accurate nickname,_ thought Edward bitterly.

Among other photos, there was a clearer one with Edward and Bella hugging, one which showed Edward's face. His eyes were closed. It felt foreign for Edward to see himself like that, but the picture stung in its intimacy. Edward ripped off the page without shredding it.

The other magazine wasn't made out of the same paper that advertisements were made of, and thus, appeared to be more trustworthy. The cover pictured Bella who was tucked under Jacob Black's protective arm; the poor guy looked at her with undisguised admiration. Edward grimaced, not being able to tear his eyes away, but at the same time feeling like a knife was repeatedly shoved into his heart. He couldn't deny that Bella looked happy in the picture, and that nearly killed him. Of course, he wanted her to be happy, but it would take a while for him to get used to the idea of Bella with someone else. Hell, he still couldn't understand how Bella could've turned out to be a celebrity. It felt like a dream.

He did not open the magazine to read the story. The picture spoke for itself.

"Since when do _you_ get so wrapped up in celeb gossip?" asked a happy voice belonging to Emmett. He sat down across the table. "Why so gloomy? Are you sad you can't jerk off in your incapacitated state or what?"

Edward murmured, "Go hang yourself."

Emmett roared of laughter, and Edward realised he didn't even mind. This was the Emmett he was used to. Edward covered his face with a hesitant smile. "How's the little one?"

"Superb. Loud. Cute as hell. Rosalie's trying to put her to sleep." Emmett grinned. "Thanks for being there for us, y'know, at the hospital 'n all."

"You would've done the same for me," said Edward, hesitating before his curiosity got the best of him. "Did you end up naming her after B–Isabella?"

Emmett eyed Edward carefully. "We thought having two Isabellas around might be a little confusing, so the little one's Jasmine. Jasmine Isabella. You know, since it's a tradition in Rosalie's family to name the girls after flowers, she thought she might as well follow it."

Edward nodded absent-mindedly. "It wouldn't have been a problem." He avoided Emmett's eyes. "She's the only Isabella now."

Emmett frowned, suspicious. "What are you getting at?"

Edward shrugged, but not as nonchalantly as he hoped. He slid the magazines in front of Emmett. "Here."

"What're you –" His eyes widened. "Oh."

Edward would have been lying to himself if he pretended not to be hurt. "Yes. 'Oh.' Thanks for your honesty. It felt fucking fantastic to see Isabella sign an autograph right in front of me. Thanks for the warning." His words were laced with sarcasm. "The next time you see me with a world-famous actress, why not pretend everything's normal? Let's have Edward feel like an idiot for being the only one not to know her real identity. Why didn't you tell me not to get involved? You knew I had a thing for her. Couldn't you have mentioned that 'hey, she's a famous actress and very much_ taken_,' huh? You could've told me _something_. I had the right to know."

"I know you did," answered Emmett, not denying anything. He eyed Edward's hands, not having gotten an answer about what had happened to Edward at the hospital.

"So why didn't you tell me not to get my hopes up?" whispered Edward fiercely. "I'm so fucking angry at you. Why could you not have just given me a hint?"

Emmett replied, "She told me not to."

Edward stared at his brother, silent and wrapped in disbelief. "She _what_? You had an actual conversation about her being a world-famous actor and me not knowing about it? _Un_believable. Is this a plot against me? Every fucking soul in this town knew, except for me. That makes me feel so trusted."

"No." Emmett frowned in the most childish way. "I told her you wouldn't take it easy."

"So you let her fake it?"

Emmett's eyes narrowed. "Not that I approved of her actions, but why would you think she was faking it?"

Irritated, Edward rolled her eyes. "Fuck, Emmett! Look at me!"

"I'm looking."

"I look fucking _disgusting_! Ask anyone!"

"I see. This is not about her being an actress at all. This is about your self-esteem issues."

"It is not," denied Edward. "This has nothing to do with my face. And if it did, that doesn't change the fact that she _lied_ to me."

"C'mon, Edward, are you really that dense? Why do you think she wanted to keep her fame a secret in the first place?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't be here."

Emmett sighed, tired of the circular conversation. "It might've been because she wanted to get to know you without all of that shit on the way. Would you have given her a chance if she told you the truth right away?"

"No," replied Edward without further thought. "Of course not."

"See? She might've been more considerate in her logic than you give her credit for. Maybe she knew you'd freak out. I sure as hell knew you would." Emmett made a fake-pout with his lips. "My poor melodramatic over-reacting little brother."

Edward rolled his eyes. "Mature, Emmett. Very mature."

His older brother chuckled as he stood up to warm some pasta and sat down again to eat. He didn't follow Edward's self-deprecating logic, but felt much too happy about having a little daughter to let himself sulk.

"So what happened to your hands? Trying to get it out of you on Sunday was like speaking to a wall."

Edward shifted uncomfortably. "Doesn't matter."

"You're pretty much crippled, Edward," reminded Emmett. "That's not exactly a broken nail."

"You really wanna know?" Edward raised his left arm, staring at it as he muttered, "This one's got carpal tunnel syndrome." He raised his right one. "And this one has three broken bones."

"Whoa. Busy week. But what _happened_?"

"I tested the strength of a stall wall. Wood, apparently, does not deform well when you do a little experiment with your right fist."

Emmett, who had not showed much worry so far, frowned. "You got angry?"

"Yeah."

"Edward," chastised Emmett. "Fuck, I thought you'd stopped that shit. Don't mess up your bones when you feel like it, okay? I have every intention of having you still around when we're both bald and seventy, don't kill yourself before that."

Edward had the decency of looking apologetic. "I'm sorry."

"Sure you are," replied Emmett, not believing at all. "Who's going to take care of your horses now?"

Edward carefully rubbed his neck with his left hand, not putting much pressure on it. "Actually, Jessica's helping me. She's pretty good. I'm paying her for the money I got for Indra. Victoria and Laurent are often there during the day, too, but they're dealing with thermal insulation. I also… I thought that – …maybe I'll apply for an internship."

Instead of answering, Emmett let silence fall on them. Edward shrunk a little. "I mean. It's just a thought."

"Why now?"

"I dunno," replied Edward. "I was just thinking the other day how I want my future to look like… and as much as I love keeping horses, I'm much better at healing them. At the rate I'm going right now, I really need a few ranch hands to keep up with the work that needs to be done. That means they'll have to move into the house. They'll need to be paid. They'll need all sorts of comfort I can't yet provide." He took a deep breath, bracing himself for his brother's opinion. "I want to sell at least half of them. I can give some to you. I just… I wanna change the course of my life right now."

"Wow," mused Emmett. "That's pretty deep, man. I feel like I've missed something. What happened?"

Edward shrugged, suddenly finding the edge of his cast incredibly fascinating. "Nothing, really. I'm… I want change. I need something different. Keeping horses is great and all, but I've been thinking… maybe it's not for me. Not as many at least, so I could do something else next to it."

"Not that I'm judging or anything, but… is this about Isabella? What happened to her, anyway?"

Emmett's little brother tried and failed to appear nonchalant. "She didn't seem to feel the same. She left with, well. We didn't leave on exactly good terms."

"Leave the 'seem' bullshit for diplomats. _What happened_?"

"I discovered she was famous before she could tell me, freaked out, accused her of faking it and found out she already has a boyfriend back in LA," explained Edward. "So yeah. It was fun."

"Why would you think she has a boyfriend?"

Edward pointed at the picture of Jacob Black and Isabella Swan. "That's why."

Emmett slid the magazine closer to him, and without opening it, said, "I'm not a dedicated fan of hers, but Edward, she seemed pretty adamant that she's serious about you. Besides, you can't just question _everything _she _ever_ said to you just because you've got self-esteem issues."

"I don't have –"

"Cut the bullshit, Edward, I know what you think. You're wrong," argued Emmett, knowing his little brother. "You do."

"Emmett, honestly, this has nothing –"

Emmett frowned as he cut his little brother off again. "Will you listen to me if I try to drill the situation into your skull from another point of view?"

Edward, having finished his coffee, slid the cup away from him and curiously eyed Emmett. He was still frustrated, so he simply nodded.

"So. _Hypothetically _speaking," started Emmett. "Let's say you're a real hunk in the acting world, the sexiest man alive, a critically acclaimed actor and whatnot. Everyone falls on your feet when they meet you and everyone you meet is constantly praising you and shit. It annoys you to death. You go on a trip and end up spending time with an amazing girl who has a physical flaw, let's say… her right ear was removed after a car accident. You with me?"

"Yeah…"

"So, you start to spend time with the girl, and maybe you don't realise at first that the girl doesn't know who you are. But when it comes to the point where the girl wants to know what you do for a living, you beat around the bush and tell the girl about your education instead of the fact that you are, in fact, famous. Can you imagine how egoistic of you it would be to start speaking of how famous you are? No, let's say you're too down to earth for that. So you say you have a degree in whatnot and blah, blah, blah. You don't want to scare the girl away with your shitty celeb public life and crap, so you keep your occupation under the radar.

"You start to really like the girl in spite of her missing ear, make a move and to your utter delight it turns out the girl really, _really_ likes you, too. You can't remember the last time you weren't praised simply because of who you are, so you really, _really_ like the feeling that she likes the real you, not the veil you draw on your character in public to protect your privacy. But in the back of your mind, you know this can't last because you'll scare her to death if you tell her about your public life. So you start postponing the truth. You're scared of it. You're scared she won't like you once she finds out that you come with a massive baggage called public life. See what I'm getting at?"

Edward observed his white hands without a word.

"Exactly. And you, as an trained actor and shit, understand that with her missing ear – that you don't even notice anymore because you're in too deep – come self-esteem issues, which means that the girl would never agree to be your other half and all that cheesy shit, because of your public life. Because in spite of what you like to believe, she wouldn't want to exhibit her physical flaw that everyone would speak about. And while you understand that, you'd like to see where your relationship could go and decide to tell her the truth."

Emmett gave Edward a disapproving look. "She has deep self-esteem issues because of her missing ear _and_ she hates actors, so it's only natural she accuses you of deceit and thinks you were only testing your own ego to make her believe you liked her. And you, the actor whose heart had just been stomped to mud, decide to leave because in your heart, you loathe the lack of privacy that comes with your job and know the girl is better off without you." He paused. "_Strictly_ hypothetically, of course."

Silence followed, and both men realised Rosalie had stopped singing. Edward stared ahead of him with a pronounced scowl on his face. He rubbed his neck, pondering on the implications of his older brother's words. He'd never thought Emmett could make more sense in the issues he struggled with than Edward did.

Finally, the younger brother let out a long, ragged breath. "I fucked up pretty bad, didn't I?"

"And he grew brains!" mock-gasped Emmett before he got serious again. "Yes. That, you did."

Edward closed his eyes and swallowed. "So what do I do now?"

* * *

**A/N:** Please take a few seconds to send a smiley or a saddey or a gaspey or a you're-a-stupid-girl-who-can't-write-y. I'm a silly girl who gets ridiculously excited about all feedback. Thank you for your incredible kindness so far!


	10. What Now?

**Disclaimer: **The Twilight Saga is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

**A Cry for the Moon**  
by Merevaik

**Chapter 10:  
**

_Los Angeles, California_

As soon as she descended from the escalator, flashes momentarily blinded Bella. She pushed up her sunglasses, hoped that they concealed her red eyes and drained her expression from emotion. A few people next to her turned their heads to see the cause for this unnecessary fuss, and openly stare-whispered once they spotted her.

Bella felt like she was thrown on stage with a fever, unannounced, in the middle of the night with no clothes, no lines and no help from anyone.

_"Smile!"_

_"Here, Isabella! Is it true you were actually molested by the blonde-haired man on the pic—"_

_"How did Jacob react when he saw you with two other guys?"_

_"Is it true that you crashed _another_ car?"_

_"— about the guy you're claimed to have been with for three weeks? Is that true?"_

_"Here! Here! Look —"_

_"Can you confirm your relationship with Jacob Black or did you already end things? Or did he?"_

_"Is it true you've already signed the musical and beat Lauren Mallory to the role?"_

She spotted her massive bodyguard who was already making his way through the intrusive paparazzi, and felt herself offer a faint smile to the spectators as William tucked her under his arm and forced the crowd to part in front of his large frame. He unlocked the black BMW E90 with tinted windows and opened the door for Bella. The silence that followed the door's closing became a stark contrast to the overpowering yelling that still echoed in her ears.

Her driver-bodyguard (one of nine) stepped into the car, gave her an encouraging smile and drove away from the paparazzi. William MacLean was a thirty five year old ginger-haired mountain of muscles. He was of Scottish descendant, a mixture of firm actions and gentle words (that Bella often failed to understand), and he followed San Francisco 49ers to the point of religion. He was probably the only person in Hollywood not to take any interest in gossip whatsoever.

Free from the sunglasses, Bella rubbed her swollen eyes and slapped her forehead as she realised she had forgotten to insert her number into Edward's iPhone. She felt like crying again, and pressed her knuckles on her eyes, rubbing them.

William gave her a brief glance, focused his eyes on the road, and snapped back his eyes as soon as they stopped in front of the red light.

"Whoa. Are ye alright?"

"Is that a metaphorical question?"

"Naw."

"In that case, no, Will. I'm not okay," confided Bella quietly, changing the subject. "Where's Ali?"

"Having a blether with wummin. Her place's hoatchin'. But she's sorry she couldnae come."

Bella hummed, missing her best friend. But she felt quite content she wasn't here; Bella needed some time to gather herself before entering her perky world.

The actress's departure from the awe-inspiring Jackson Hole Airport had started with only a few passengers noticing her presence; and those few were gracious enough not to put her under the radar in her weeping mess during the two-hour flight to the Los Angeles International Airport.

Yes, she cried.

She also twirled her bracelet around her right wrist, counted three strings, six knots and fifteen wooden pearls; twirled it, smelled the leather; and stopped only to start twirling all over again.

She didn't think she'd ever take it off.

The world she had re-entered seemed to involve somebody else, and the shoes she suddenly filled didn't feel like hers, either. Bella couldn't remember the last time she had the ability to watch her own life as if it didn't belong to her. Discovered at nine, recognizable at thirteen, high-school graduate at seventeen, college-graduate at twenty one; two successful series, five independent films, two smaller films, five blockbusters and countless of smaller roles, awards and nominations; and all through this, she was expected to have a (preferably normal) life outside of her job. And God, she wanted that. She needed it.

She knew it was completely her fault that she could not even sniff the normal life from a distance, at least not anymore. But given a choice, whether to repeat the mistake she made — keeping her fame from Edward — and have the chance to spend two wonderful weeks getting to know the guy, or to be blunt from the start, scare him away and to not even get the opportunity to explore what they could have had?

She would not have changed a thing.

Yes, Bella felt guilty for openly admitting to herself that she would have lied again if it meant spending time with the lonely farmer whose life could not have been any more different from hers. She did feel guilty, and it wasn't a tiny nagging guilt, it became nearly overbearing. But next to the undeniable self-reproach, Bella also felt disgruntled that Edward immediately thought her whole being was a lie.

She was Bella before she got famous, and while she had changed during her life — because everyone did — she was still the same Bella. As much as she hated it, she never got rid of her nail-biting habit, she still hung out with her friends, she still teased her little brother and she still liked to wander to uninhabited places with no reason whatsoever. She liked to read and paint. She liked the slightest buzz in a movie-theatre when the film emitted no sound, and she liked to believe she wasn't entirely ruined by the business she was in.

She was, no doubt, a homey girl, not only because it was difficult to be anything else without being open to publicity, but because she liked it.

Did Edward realise that about her? How much did they actually know each other? Obviously they had only been in the very beginning of their journey, but how real Edward had made her feel made every other possible choice pale in comparison. Bella actually grasped Edward's perspective fairly well. She didn't blame him. How could she? She knew for a fact that if such a big part of somebody else's life were to be hidden from her, especially if she had as many issues with self-esteem as Edward did, she would have been livid, too.

_But still… _she thought. _He should've had more confidence in me._

Bella didn't think Edward understood how much his own reaction protected him against the reality of her life. Bella couldn't complain. She had _chosen_ this life. He had not, and casual dating with a girl surrounded by cameras in her everyday life frightened even the people used to this life. No doubt it would scare away the only man from the real world whom she actually wanted to get to know.

Would he become a mere memory of a possibility that once seemed so real? Edward made it perfectly clear he wanted to never hear from her again. He wished she didn't exist, and probably stopped thinking about her the moment she had left from his land.

Like a switch.

Bella wished her thoughts had a similar switch, because she had no ability to turn her thoughts on and off like that.

William stopped the car in front of the iron gates and inserted nine digits. The gates closed after the car had driven in, and they continued on a curve-shaped driveway surrounded by palm trees. The white, two-storey building covered a vast five thousand square metres (53820 sq feet), a house so unnecessarily large Bella had actually thought of finding tenants. The idea wouldn't have been as ridiculous had she not been a noted actress. She also wasn't eager to give the magazines a field day once they discovered an acknowledged actress was searching for _roommates_.

She had no doubt that finding people would not have been a problem, and that would have been a problem. She wasn't an exhibit.

Bella thanked William and assured him he was free for today. She entered another (different) nine-digit code on the side of the oaken front door and stepped into the house.

"Mi-ike!"

The name echoed back to her. She shivered, slid off her shoes and walked to the kitchen. The half-filled fridge was a proof that her brother had recently stayed here or was still around, and the answering machine contained two hundred and twenty nine recorded messages. Bella drawled a moan and made herself an omelette before she listened to the notices and ate. A large amount of them were from her agent Renesmee Carlie, a twenty nine year old woman who consistently reminded everyone to call her Nessie, not by her much-scorned first name; but some weren't work related.

Most were, though, and Bella stopped listening to the swarm of interview invites and TV-show requests when she had ninety one messages to go. She sat on the counter, drew her legs underneath her and stared at the squeaky cleanness of her large kitchen; the grey marble floor, the dark brown kitchen cabinets and the overall impression of delicate matching and stylish consideration. It wasn't that it looked bad. It didn't. The colours and patterns created an elegant yet warm aura and a perfectly perfect perfectness anyone could ever want.

It just felt so damn anonymous.

From the embarrassing cleanness and lack of personal objects, it seemed like the kind of place a rentable penthouse would feel like, and not a home where a few inept items only made it cosier. Bella hopped off the counter, drew out a cutlery drawer, grasped the (perfectly matching silver) spoons, pushed the drawer back in and observed the counters. She wasn't sure what came over her, but something about the flawless surrounding made her want to riot in her own way.

After finishing setting a single spoon on each counter, Bella eyed her work of quirkiness from the wide doorway. She couldn't imagine anyone understanding her reasons for such insanity, but in an unexplainable way, the disorder made her feel much better.

It also made her miss Edward.

Bella sighed, finished listening to the messages, and after giving one final glance at the evidence that she must've been losing her mind, she walked to her much-too-clean-and-orderly bedroom. It felt big and empty, like a guestroom.

Suddenly, she felt isolated. She felt angry. Edward didn't want her. Her parents had not left a single message to even pretend they cared. She couldn't go out of her land without someone shoving a camera into her face, and she couldn't even feel at home in her own house.

She didn't want to be here. She couldn't go.

Most of all, she wanted Edward to want her.

Bella tore off the covers of her bed, threw the pillows across the room and muffled a scream into one of the fancier pillows. She curled up in the middle of her bed, hugging the pillow, and didn't realise she was crying until she felt the wetness under her cheek. Her face felt sore and swollen. Her muscles ached. She didn't know how long she stayed in the fetal position, but when a sunbeam started to warm her cheek, she knew she must've had fallen asleep. She was still wearing the uncomfortable blue dress she didn't own, and with faint numbness, she slid out of it, took a shower and put on the most unappealing pair of pyjamas she owned.

With oil colours and a canvas under her arm, Bella went to one of the emptier corners of her walk-in wardrobe, set up a low canvas-holder, and sat cross-legged in front of it. She took out the earpiece that converted some of the colours into sounds, and started mixing colours. Edward might've not wanted her, but that didn't mean she couldn't explain visually how she felt about him.

She grasped the Silver Brand Ruby Brush and slid it across the raggedly surface of the white canvas.

.-*-.-*-.

_Jackson Hole, Wyoming_

"I can't believe I'm doing this."

"Can you please not rub it in? It's embarrassing as it is."

"Still. Shouldn't you be the one to teach me? Youngsters usually know more about the tech stuff."

"_Youngsters_? I'm twenty four. Can you just not comment and show me?"

"Okay, okay, calm down. I'll show you. But you gotta admit, it's kinda funny."

"_Just show me_."

Emmett let out an exaggerated sigh, clicked twice on the Mozilla Firefox shortcut and attempted to refrain himself from laughing at his younger brother. "Do I need to explain what Internet is, too?"

"Shut up. I haven't lived under a rock."

"But you _have_," corrected Emmett, still utterly amused. "You _have_."

"I'm not an idiot, I just haven't used it much."

"You mean, _never_."

Edward huffed, wishing his fingers worked better so that he could use the keyboard properly and avoid the incessant teasing. "I'm not a bloody ninety year old."

"_Bloody_? How much time exactly do you spend with Jessica?"

Edward let out a frustrated sigh. "C'mon, Emmett. Please help me without being responsible for another broken bone."

Emmett gasped, pretending to be scared, but decided not to comment as a smug half-smirk appeared on his lips. "Okay. So, when was the last time you were on the Internet? No, hold that thought. When was the last time you used a computer? 1995?"

"_Bloody hell_, Emmett. Will you or will you not help me?"

The older brother continued to smirk. "Can't help it, Eddie. You're a century behind with this stuff."

"Well, _Emmy_, it would take a lot less time for me to modernise my knowledge if you stopped making comments about my caveman life."

Emmett sent him an ear-to-ear grin as he started to help Edward. "How much _do_ you know about the Internet?"

Still embarrassed by his brother's never-ending mocking-marathon, Edward awkwardly explained that he did, in fact, own an email address — a fact Emmett had not been aware of — but the last time he'd signed in had been approximately three years ago. Edward's neck flushed as he admitted that he could probably count the times he'd used the Internet on his fingers. Emmett struggled not to burst into laughter, but for his younger brother's sake, (barely) refrained himself.

"Okay, so, since you wanted to know more about Isabella, I guess you should probably start with Google."

"I, uh, wanted to see the videos in The Tube," muttered Edward. "I know Google. You don't have to give me an elaborate study trip of the Internet."

"Sure looks like you need one," replied Emmett, holding in his chuckles. "It's not 'The Tube' — it's YouTube. Like videos from _you_ or something... before VEVO decided otherwise, but whatever."

Edward nodded without understanding Emmett's last sentence.

"God, Edward, how did you graduate with two degrees without using the Internet?"

Emmett's little brother shrugged, mumbling something about using the library and never owning a computer. Emmett started to feel sorry for his innocent younger brother, so he opened tabs from different sites and explained, "Just insert her name, add 'interview' or 'pictures' or 'movies' or whatever you wanna see, and it'll do the rest itself. Come 'n get me if you need me, I'll be in the barn."

Edward nodded, raised the laptop to his lap, rested his head on the back of the couch and entered, 'Isabella Swan.'

There were about 97,000 results in YouTube and nearly 50 million results in Google.

He scratched his forehead with his left hand, hesitating.

.-*-.-*-.

Bella set the tiniest brush aside, gripped the sides of the canvas and held the painting closer to the lamp. The night had fallen, and she had eaten dinner and run a few laps in her echoing empty corridors to keep her joints and muscles active. Her parents had forbidden running around in the house when she was younger, so it brought her some sort of lost joy to be able to act like a kid. No-one cared if she tried to touch all the over parts of the doorframes or if she slid across the floor in her blue elephant slippers. But at the moment, she was doing neither. Instead, she numbly watched the doorframes pass. She didn't smile.

Bella felt like creating a chaos, and not because she suddenly wanted to practice pyromania or hit every surface with a baseball bat. She had felt at home in Edward's place, so in her sleepy, semi-fanatic need to explain herself to Edward, she also wanted to recreate the atmosphere at his place.

His home wasn't squeaky clean.

But while Bella created her quirky, unfathomable disorder, she also knew she couldn't feel at home; Edward had been a crucial part of that equation, and he wasn't here. He wouldn't be here.

Bella set the picture on a kitchen counter (next to a lonely-looking spoon), slid out a bar-stool and sat down to write Edward a letter. It took her half a pen's filling and five drafts before she became remotely satisfied with the result. Her eyes filled with tears at one point, but she bit her lip and continued; even if she didn't hear back from him, Bella knew the least she owed him was an explanation. But at the end of the letter, Bella stumbled on an obstacle. How would she sign it? Sincerely? With love? If she did indeed love him, she didn't want her declaration to be in writing. But as she didn't want to come across as cold, either, she settled for _Yours_. Fairly used, but got the point across.

Bella slid her hand across the rough portrait. It was vertically divided into two parts; the right side was coloured properly with the scar on his cheek, but the left side was in shades of brown without it — the way Bella saw him. She couldn't tell the difference other than the absence of his scar, but she hoped Edward would understand what she meant.

It was over half to three AM when Bella picked up her blankets, curled up in the middle of the bed, and remembered that she probably had to start working tomorrow. She sent short messages to Alice, Nessie and her brother before she fell asleep.

At nine AM on a sunny Monday morning, Bella hummed and sleepily attempted to remember how to use her Bosch coffee machine. She had gotten a text message from Nessie a few hours prior, and didn't risk going back to sleep to avoid being late. Famous or not, woman or not, Bella couldn't stand tardiness in any shape or form. She didn't want anyone to wait for her.

Bella startled as the front door slammed shut, and spun around. A few seconds later, a minuscule black-haired girl set Bella's laptop on the closest counter and simply stood motionless, stretching a smile. She opened her arms wide and they fell into each other's arms, attempting to hug the breath out of each other.

"I missed you."

They spoke the words at the same time. Alice burst into laughter before they pulled back; Alice took a step back to examine the difference in her best friend, and awed by Bella's appearance, said, "Wow, you look so trim and tanned and… pretty."

"You look so —" Bella started, and smiled gently. Alice had always been incredibly petite, but the dark circles under her eyes, vulnerable-looking body and a lack of even chirpier behaviour suggested she had been taking her diet to a whole new level.

"…thin," finished Bella, overwhelmed with concern as her smile faded.

"I know, right?" Alice beamed, proudly spinning around and showing off her frail structure. "My new diet's working wonders."

"Are you sure it's healthy? I don't want to judge you, but… if you lose any more weight, you'll be needing help."

Alice huffed. "Of course it's healthy, I only have five more pounds to lose and then I'll be done."

That's exactly how Alice felt about the five pounds before that, and the five before that, but she chose not to mention her inability to stop. She felt like only five more, and she would be prettier, tinier, perfect. Alice believed she had it under control.

"And how much exactly do you weigh?" asked Bella carefully, taking a sip from her coffee. Alice shrugged, purposefully vague because she knew the numbers would freak Bella out.

"That's unimportant."

The obvious desire to keep the issue nondescript worried Bella, but she understood it wasn't in her control to guide Alice's choices. She just needed the right moment to make Alice realise she did not need to lose weight to be more beautiful, she needed to stay healthy. But now wasn't the time, and Bella ended the conversation by motioning at the coffee maker. "Coffee?"

"Oh, no, I already ate," replied Alice, hopping onto a counter and observing the lonesome spoons reflecting back at her. She picked one up. "So what's up with the spoon collection you're exhibiting?"

Bella flushed, took the piece of cutlery from Alice's hands and set it back down. "I'm making this place cosier."

Alice snickered. "By setting a bunch of spoons on your counters? Wow. I don't think I'm the one who needs help."

Bella nudged Alice, smiling. "Shut it, they're cool."

"They're _weird_, weirdo. It looks like you're attempting to catch nifflers, you know — the ones from _Harry_ _Potter_? Weird."

"Either way, let them be," defended Bella, setting down the spoon. Alice shook her head and laughed before questioning Bella on the subject of her adventurous vacation. As Bella still had an hour to kill before meeting with Nessie and going to a casting, they settled to the living room and updated each other on what had happened during their separation.

"What do you mean you don't care about his face?" asked Alice when Bella poured out her lovesick soul. Alice had read the article and seen the cover picture, but she had not observed the pictures next to the gossip. Bella explained the subject she hadn't discussed with anyone but Edward, and the further she described his face, the more Alice's face crumpled. She did a Google search, 'burnt face' and gagged at the pictures. "Eww, Bella, eww. Yuck."

Bella narrowed her eyes slightly. "Stop it."

"Are you serious?" asked Alice, motioning at the pictures. "That's _disgusting_. You can do so much better than that."

Bella, who had already been missing Edward's presence like crazy, immediately felt defensive. "You have no right to say that, Alice. No right. You don't know him."

"You're right. I don't," agreed Alice, still flabbergasted at this new knowledge. She motioned at the first picture, with a man whose face was completely distorted. "Does he look this bad?"

Bella glanced at the picture. "No. He's got it more distinguished, like a sword had slid from here," she motioned at her forehead, "to here," and glided her hand to the other cheek to show the direction of Edward's scar. "At first it looks kind of strange, but you get used to it."

Alice made a mental note to find out about the possible plastic surgery procedures to remove a scar that appalling.

As Alice prepared to leave, she mentioned going to the post-office to post a birthday card she got for her mother, and Bella seized the opportunity to send her package with Alice. They said their goodbyes, and Bella only remembered wanting to write her phone number onto the box when her best friend had already left. So on her way to the casting, nervous and twitchy, Bella gave Alice a call and emphasised the importance of writing Bella's phone number on the box.

Her address was correct, but it would be of little use without something as tangible as a phone number.

Standing in the line between an overly talkative kid and an impatient middle-aged man, Alice stared at the box in her hands, pondering. Before she knew it, she was in front of the counter with a box that was weighed and assessed. She asked for a single post-stamp for her birthday card before she fell silent.

"Anything else, Miss?"

She bit her lip, observing the yellow pen and flickering her eyes from the pen to the box.

"Miss?"

Alice offered the woman a smile. "No, that's all. Thank you."

With a final glance at the brown carton, Alice turned around with a pang of guilt, but pleased with her choice. Bella would be thanking her later, she was sure of it.

.-*-.-*-.

Edward thought that if this were a movie, his character would spontaneously hop on a plane (regardless of the whether or not he could afford it), land in Los Angeles, take a taxi, trespass Isabella's property (wherever the hell she lived), and confess his undying love for her, which she would reciprocate with a blinding grin from a marble balcony. They would share a passionate kiss, the camera would slide off of their figures, focus on a heart-shaped cloud, and the words 'The End' would be formed from seagulls.

Sadly, this was not a film. He could not afford to engage in such impulsive behaviour and randomly buy two plane tickets. Not only did he not have the slightest clue as to where she lived or how to get in touch with her, he also owned over twenty horses which needed grooming, training and feeding. He had promised to be there for Emmett, he had promised to start meeting Dr. Uley; and not to mention, he couldn't just leave Jessica with the horses for an unspecified amount of time. Edward didn't have the slightest clue as to how to find Isabella or how long the searching would take, but he knew for a fact that he needed to think of a plan.

Edward needed a sense of purpose in his actions, and while he had occasional bursts of spontaneity, he preferred to know where he was going in terms of his choices and life in general. He wanted reason and practicality.

It was over midnight by the time Edward finished watching countless of videos, re-read Bella's Wikipedia page, clicked on multiple IMDb pages and got the general sense of who Bella was and how she delivered herself in front of crowds. He was ashamed to admit that he had expected her to have developed a sense of arrogance or condescending behaviour, but that couldn't have been further from the truth. She was easy-going, intelligent and sweet, and blushed like crazy when she was given compliments. Edward slid his cast across the screen, gradually missing her to a greater extent the more he watched the videos.

When the longing grew unbearable, Edward snapped the laptop shut, placed it on the table and leaned back on the couch, mentally berating himself. As hard as it was for Edward to believe, Bella was certainly not the kind of person to misguide anyone's feelings for a mere ego-boost. She would have never been that cruel. Did she really feel something for him?

But what about the Jacob Black guy?

After finding out the extent of her fame, Edward also became incredibly intimidated by her. She was not only an actress, she'd won an Emmy, two Golden Globe Awards, and she had been nominated for an Oscar. Edward might not have been too fond of films, but even he knew that an Oscar-nomination didn't just fall from the sky; you had to deliver a fantastic performance to be considered for an Academy Award. She could not be just a pretty face who got famous for lingering at parties, she had obviously earned her fame with hard work and dedication.

It scared the shit out of Edward. But once he had taken in what he had just seen, Edward re-opened the laptop, and entered, 'Veterinary Internship and Resident Matching Program.' It was one of the two sites he had visited a few years prior. If he intended to find an internship program anyway, and if Edward did not know how long it would take for him to find the actress, couldn't he join the two? If the latter didn't work out, at least he would gain experience in his field.

Could he honestly survive a year in the busy and crowded loudness of Los Angeles? Where would he live?

Jasper's?

But after the slow and careful typing so characteristic of people unused to keyboards, the VIRMP website informed Edward that the applications had to have been sent in December; more than half a year ago. Edward groaned quietly, shut his eyes and took a minute to think before he went to the American Association of Equine Practitioners website. It took him a few clicks, but once he realised the applications could be sent any time of the year, his face broke into a grin. The muscles weren't used to the act.

If he contacted his previous internship program near Cheyenne, could they retrieve his documents and applications? He must have still had them around, but finding his papers from the stacks of Carlisle's old documents and Esme's paintings would've made a magnet proud. It wasn't going to happen unless he tore down a few houses and conversed with mice, who most probably had everything to do with the disappearance of his documents.

Edward felt better now that he had a vague idea how he was going to deal with the situation. He was too proud to rush to Los Angeles and find proof for his (self) doubts only to admit he was there for her only, even if that was the truth. He felt foolish because he'd known her for mere two weeks, and even he didn't know if he'd spoken the words about loving her because it was the truth or because he had felt so trapped and angry. But he did feel _something_, and maybe he was running right into a cobweb of naïveté and flushed the remnants of his dignity down the toilet, but how would he know for sure if he didn't even attempt to find her?

It would be easier to regret the wrong choices than the ones he didn't make at all.

August brought an occasional cloud cover and a cooler breeze, giving a taste of the usual summer that didn't reach temperatures high enough to boil eggs. The horses no longer spent the days in the shadows; they became more lively and even the gaunt-looking Ben managed to stand up. His legs wobbled slightly, as if he were making his very first steps, but the gelding recuperated rather fast and started to follow around a mare named Angela. The female couldn't stand it, and as soon as Ben had gained enough strength to run, the two horses often galloped far away from the farmstead.

They always returned before the nightfall.

Edward and Jessica had fallen into a routine, and the more Edward played with the idea of finding a suitable internship program, the further convinced he was that a year in Los Angeles couldn't have been that intolerable. A week after his first appointment with Dr. Joshua Uley, Edward set up a wireless router; he had borrowed a laptop from Emmett to reconnect with his previous internship program and regained his documents. He posted an application, a CV and sent out applications to specific places in several states. Edward still typed with the speed of a snail due to his hand problems, but he no longer felt like a complete fool in the internet.

Determined to get results and knowing the improbable chances of getting an internship program in AAEP — especially in Los Angeles, and with such short notice — Edward also searched for job position as an architectural engineer. It had been four years since he received a diploma, but if building his own house didn't keep his mind fresh, he didn't know what would have.

He discussed his plans with Jessica, and they spent their evenings eating sandwiches, drinking beer and waiting for the sun to set. Jessica spoke about her eventful job as a Geography/Economics teacher at Jackson Hole High School, and as such, she couldn't possibly keep helping Edward after the first school bell. They both agreed that the pros of selling most of the horses and applying for an internship surpassed the cons. The main con being the fact that as much encouragement as Jessica offered Edward, neither of them knew how to actually find Isabella; and once — _if_ — he actually managed to find her, how the actress would react. She could have forgotten Edward by the time he arrived for all he knew.

He just couldn't be sure.

"So you don't think I'm acting like a reckless weirdo?" asked Edward on the first Friday of August as they sat in front of the bonfire they had created out of burnable waste. A cold log underneath them kept their pants dry from evening dew as they sipped beer and stared at the fire.

"I'm kinda surprised you managed to live three years in complete solitude," said Jessica before she crumpled her face. "So — reckless? No. Lovesick? Hell yes."

Edward rolled his eyes, smiling slightly at the banter. "Well, it's not like I'm there specifically for her. I'll be an intern or have a job."

Jessica turned her head, raising her eyebrows.

"Okay," corrected Edward. "I will be there for her, but it's not like I'm gonna admit that to her."

"And how exactly are you going to do that? 'Oh, hey, Isabella, I was just reading the newspaper yesterday and it told me you're doing a scene around the neighbourhood and yay! Here I am! I love you!' Like that?" Jessica paused. "Actually, that might work if you cut out the last part." She poked the fire, thoughtful. The fire crackled and a few ambitious sparks glided across the river. "You know, I reckon you're going to have to actually start to stalk her. There's just no other way. You could search for her email, but I'm sure a thousand sites will give you a thousand and one to choose from. Celebrities like her keep their real stuff private. You could find out if she owns a mansion that's well-known around Hollywood, or — I know! Facebook, Edward! It's brilliant."

"The what? Face book?"

Jessica burst out her booze and choked with laughter. "I'm sorry." It took her a minute to gather herself. "I'll just pretend that I didn't hear that."

Edward's neck flushed, and he was happy for the relative darkness of the evening.

"Facebook is a social network where you put up your picture and information about yourself and make friends with your friends."

"But that doesn't make any sense." Edward frowned. "I already _am_ friends with my friends, why would I care about some site telling me so?"

Jessica chuckled. "You're like a man from the Moon, it's cute."

"Gee, Jess. Thanks," said Edward. "But how's that place gonna help us?"

"It might not." Jessica jumped up and wiped her bottom from the dust. "But it wouldn't hurt to try. I'll be right back!"

A mere two minutes later, Jessica returned. The scowl on her face crushed Edward's already meagre hopes.

"No luck?"

Jessica pursed her lips and sat down. "No. I was so sure… but if she does have an account, it's either not public or not under her real name."

"Thanks for trying. I'll find a way." Edward shrugged, ending his bottle of booze. "You know, if I do find where she lives, can't I just… go and ring her doorbell?"

"Yeah, you could," ironised Jessica. "I'll just read from the _US Weekly_ and every other magazine how a bunch of bodyguards beat up a creepy stalker who trespassed Isabella's property and ended up having a restraining order for the rest of his life. _That_'ll be a story you won't tell your non-existent grandchildren."

Edward hesitated. "Do you really think it's that bad? Why do you think she has a bodyguard?"

"It's not that bad, it's _worse_," said Jessica, "and I know she does, probably more than one." Jessica patted Edward's shoulder in a belittling manner, a behaviour he found so similar to Emmett's that he nearly snapped a defensive retort. But he didn't. Jessica continued, "I knew you were naïve, but wow, you're on a level of your own. We're no longer in the era of discovering the wonders of cinema, Edward. Famous people are not only recognised and acknowledged for what they do, technology actually brings them closer than ever before. Everyone wants a piece of them. I don't know much about her life, but I'm pretty sure her fans occasionally burst into tears in front of her, she's probably escaped from paparazzi more than once, and I wouldn't be surprised if she had trust issues with the people she converses with. So yeah."

"You know an awful lot about celebrities."

A little buzzed from the beer, Jessica pointed at her heart. "Gossip girl, remember? Gossip's fun. But I'm not sure I'd survive in an environment like that."

Taking in her words, Edward asked, "Are you suggesting that… they'd be interested in me, too?"

"For sure," answered Jessica. "I'd bet on it, but that'd be boring, because I know _for a fact_ they'll discuss your past, present and future, your intentions, your face, your manners, _everything_ will be out for the world to see. And if you mess up, well. Let's just say you might want to make your address anonymous. Or change your name."

"Huh," replied Edward. "No pressure or anything."

"Nope." Jessica poured the end of her beer into the dried grass, tilted her head on the side and looked up at Edward. "Are you ready to deal with all of that?"

"I…" Edward trailed off, weighing how much of her words could be true and how much was exaggerated. "I haven't actually done anything to deserve fame, so for all they know, I could be completely talentless. Once the initial shock of my face is over, I'm sure they'll lose interest. I have nothing to offer."

"You'd be surprised by the swarm of completely talentless celebrities out there. You don't really have to be good at anything anymore to get your fifteen minutes of fame. Some people's fifteen minutes just lasts for years."

Verging toward the belief that Jessica was exaggerating, Edward let a silence fall on them while they watched the crackling of wood and carton. He couldn't differentiate the river from the shore anymore.

"Do you already know where you'll be staying at? Rosalie's brother? When're you going, anyway?"

"Depends on if I get an internship or find a job, when they want me to start, when I manage to sell my horses, when we're finishing renovating the house… stuff like that," said Edward. "I have no idea. Not yet. I sent an email to Jasper a few days ago, but he hasn't replied yet."

Jessica hummed. "My sister's trying to make it in LA, I'm sure she'd let you stay in her place if the Jasper idea doesn't work out."

"We're not talking about a few days here," argued Edward. "I need to actually find a place to live, not a place to crash for a few nights."

"Still," shrugged Jessica. "It's always good to have a back-up plan, you know?"

.-*-.-*-.

Edward's plan crumbled in the most unexpected ways. He hadn't spoken to Jasper for nearly half a year, and while that wasn't rare, the response Edward got undermined all his sketchy strategy. The good news was, Jasper told Edward "to get your sorry ass over here and learn how to start enjoying life." Needless to add, Jasper wouldn't have minded sharing the apartment with Edward; he would've welcomed some company from an old friend.

The bad news was, Jasper had moved to New York City.

Edward wasn't prepared for this. He'd had it all figured out. After three days of discussing it with Jessica and agonizing over the matter at hand, Edward rejected the idea of going to live with Jessica's sister Olivia, and decided to find an apartment himself. He needed a one-room, low-maintenance, low-price apartment that would be remotely close to… well, he wasn't sure yet. But he would find out.

A week later, Jasper let Edward know that he would be moving to Florida for the following month, and was likely to either move back to Los Angeles or San Francisco from there. Jasper's letter neither assured nor disheartened Edward, but together they agreed that Edward could keep his eyes open for a low-budget two-bedroom apartment as well.

The following month passed by under the pressure of time; Edward still had to work on his house, finish the heat insulation on the second floor, sell most of his horses for a reasonable price (and get himself an actual bank account), and give the rest of them to Emmett. He had sent out a total of nine applications and CVs, and got the first positive response from an American Association of Equine Practitioners clinic in Seattle. It would've been the perfect opportunity were it not for the fact it started in January next year and was located thousands of miles from where Edward wanted to be. He also got a few job offers for a position as an Architectural Engineer, two from Cheyenne, and internship offers in a small animal pet clinic in Chicago and Los Angeles.

What he did not get, however, was an internship offer from an Equine Practitioners clinic from Los Angeles. He didn't mind starting out as an engineer, but Edward would've been lying to himself if he claimed to be completely content with the idea. Yes, he liked architecture, but the thought of re-entering the world of veterinary sciences appealed to him even more.

After Edward had sold most of his horses, and given six of them to Emmett (including Indra, who he gave away with a heavy heart), Edward and Jessica spent her last day in Masen's Oak varnishing the wooden doors inside the house. It was the 2th of August, and the package Edward had received the previous Saturday sat on the bed, untouched.

Meanwhile, it was ripped apart by thoughts which Edward pretended not to have. He acted like receiving it wasn't a big deal, and to prove his point, left it unopened. It wasn't effective; instead, it left him jittery, anxious and unfocused. When Jessica couldn't stand it anymore, she gave him a choice: she would open it for him, she would leave him alone and let him rip it apart himself, or he would stop jumping every time a door creaked or a bird chirped.

He gave her a long, hard look before letting out a sigh.

"Now?"

Jessica huffed. "Bloody hell, Edward. No, thirty years from now. Of course now. I can see how much it bothers you, just open it."

Hesitant, Edward repeated, "Are you sure?"

"Are you waiting for the grass to grow? Yes. Do it."

Edward dropped the brush into the transparent varnish, washed his hands in the freshly installed sink in the bathroom, and slid the package closer to him as he sat down.

He made out the address in Bella's wobbly-looking handwriting:

_Isabella M. Swan  
Sobre las Nubes, 351 A Mountain Lilac Boulevard  
Santa Monica, LA  
CA 90405 _

"I dunno," muttered Edward, frowning. "What if it's something bad?"

Jessica sat down next to him. "Well, you won't know unless you open it."

"Like Schrödinger's Cat," continued Edward nervously. "It's simultaneously both good and bad before I tear the tape off and find out."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "Only you could become philosophical right before opening a package you receive. Do it already."

Methodically, Edward pulled off the silver duck-tape and turned the carton upside down. Jessica took the painting and set it in front of her. Edward froze.

"That's kinda cool, I guess, but why is it half-way brown?"

Edward stared at the picture Bella had, no doubt, painted herself. It was a little rough, but with surprisingly accurate features and a message he immediately understood. A letter, a blue dress and old-fashioned sunglasses all fell out of the box. Edward ignored the clothing, but read and re-read the letter before he put both the painting and the letter down.

"Can you give me a sec?"

.-*-.-*-.

"Say it, say: 'fuck you.'"

Edward pulled his eyes away from the first yellow leaves behind the window. Jasmine clapped her hands together, squeezed her eyes shut and opened her mouth to a wide toothless grin. Emmett leaned over her, dawdling, "Fuuck yoouuu."

Rose rushed into the living room and stood with her hands akimbo. "Emmett! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Why are you teaching our daughter to curse? She's only two months old!"

"I'm not teaching her to curse," denied Emmett. "I'm just teaching her what to tell boys until she's eighteen."

"Oh, God." Rosalie gave her husband the slightest of smiles (yet not a good-hearted one), pointing at his face. "It'll take at least a half a year before she'll start to form anything remotely similar to words, but if her first ones are 'fuck you', you are _so_ dead, Emmett Dale Masen. Dead!"

"You'll be thanking me later."

"Oh, I'm sure," ironised Rosalie. "When people come and say: 'What a cute little girl, what were her first words?' And I'll have to answer: 'She told me to go and fuck myself.' I'm sure I'll be on my knees from gratitude. I do not want you to teach dirty words to _my_ daughter!"

"Kinda mine, too, you know, unless you have access to information that I do not."

"I carried her for nine months."

"And what impregnated you, air?"

"Oh, God. When will men realise giving birth to a baby is so much tougher than sticking your —"

"Hey, hey, hey!" interrupted Edward, carefully taking the girl from Emmett's lap and gently resting her head on his rough hand. "Now that we've successfully established that it takes a male _and_ a female to reproduce, how about we go and have a dinner, okay? I understand you're both exhausted, but I'd really appreciate your advice." He cast a glance at the both of them. "Without chopping any heads off, preferably."

Rosalie sighed, leaning on the doorframe and averting her eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm just so tired."

"Me, too," added Emmett, slumping further into the couch. "Dude, whoever claims that the first year is the easiest is so wrong. I can't remember the last time I slept through the entire night. The girl just won't sleep."

"_You_ can't remember?" asked Rosalie.

"And changing the diapers, it's —"

"You mean that one time you _tried_ to?"

"Hey, hey," intervened Edward once more, almost whispering. Jasmine smacked her lips, cuddled closer to Edward's gauze-wrapped hand and breathed evenly. "I think she's asleep."

"No way." Disbelieving, Emmett leaned closer, and even Rosalie stepped next to them.

"Holy hell, what's up with you and this girl? I swear this is the fifth time she's fallen asleep in your arms, just like that." Emmett snapped his finger. "Dude, you are so not going to LA or 3wherever, come 'n be our nanny."

"Sure I will," chuckled Edward, but smiled at the fragile bump in his arms before he rendered Jasmine up to Rosalie who went upstairs to put her in bed. Twenty minutes later, all three of them sat behind the table, and with longing, Edward witnessed how Emmett and Rosalie shared mutual apologies and made goo-goo eyes at each other. As discreetly as he could, Edward cleared his throat before they forgot he was there and started having make-up sex right in front of him.

"So you're sure it had no telephone number in it?" asked Emmett as he had dug into the spaghetti, still not believing Edward. "Or an email address?"

"I've had it for a month. Trust me, I would've found it. There's nothing."

"Just the actual address?"

"Yes."

"But how's that gonna help you?"

"I guess I'll just… I dunno. Show up?"

"But can't you send her letters and stuff to let her know you're going there, or ask for her phone number?"

"I already did."

"And you haven't gotten a response?"

"Nothing."

Rosalie and Emmett shared a knowing look, one which wasn't invisible to Edward's eyes. "What?"

Emmett sighed. "Has it occurred to you that maybe she didn't want you to contact him back?"

"That's bullshit," argued Rosalie, resting her knuckles on the edge of the table. "C'mon, Emmett, you saw her when she was here. She was smitten with him."

"Just putting it out there," defended Emmett, shrugging. "I'm not saying it happened, I'm just asking if Edward has thought of the option."

He had, and more than he would have liked. "Yes. That's why I'm not quite sure I want to give up my chances in Seattle for an internship I don't prefer."

"You don't want to go to LA after all?"

"I do," said Edward. "But I also want to have a good reason for going there."

"And Isabella is not good enough a reason?" asked Rosalie.

Edward ran his fingers through the hair that was getting so long he could've tied it into a pony tail if he wanted to. He sighed. "What if I go there without finding a job I like, and end up finding out she was merely being polite?"

"Then you gather the remnants of your dignity and come back home with your tail between your legs."

"Just like that?"

"Why don't you like the idea of Isabella knowing you're there for her, and only her?"

"Because it's humiliating."

"I think she'd be flattered," said Rosalie simply. "Most women like that sappy stuff. Just go and see."

"What are your plans right now?" asked Emmett.

"I think… I think it's most reasonable if I accept the position as an intern in that small animal clinic in LA. It's my best option. Jasper and I found a pretty reasonable place, and he's gonna move in next week. I have my ticket for the twenty eighth."

Emmett huffed a disbelieving chuckle. "If you already have your ticket, why ask us for advice?"

"I dunno." Edward shrugged. "I guess you're kinda the only family I have, so I just thought you have the right to hear about the mistakes I make first-hand."

"Aw, look at my little brother," started Emmett. "So cute in his —"

"Bloody hell, Em—"

"Newfound Englishman's vocabu —"

"Hey, hey," intervened Rosalie, amused. "Greet my little brother as well, will you?"

"Will do," said Edward, standing up.

"What about your meetings with Dr. Uley?" asked Emmett.

"Postponed."

"How're they going?"

"Fine."

"Is that good or bad?"

"It's fine."

"Elaborate, as always. Will we be seeing you before you go?"

"Probably not."

"In that case," said Emmett, hugging his brother briefly. "Tell Isabella we'll send her rotten tomatoes every day for the rest of her life if she chooses some filthy rich actor over my little brother."

Edward chuckled, shaking her head. He offered his sister-in-law a hug, covered his messy hair with the old cowboy hat he'd had for most of his life, and stepped out into the breezy evening of the second week of September.

.-*-.-*-.

The moment Edward stepped out of the LAX Airport, he was hit by a gust of scorching hot wind. He clutched onto his only suitcase, an old weather-beaten trunk that used to belong to his mother, and let out a whistle, hailing a cab. He offered the dark-haired driver a piece of paper on which Edward had written the address, and even though Edward could hardly understand the driver's heavy Spanish accent, the driver gave him a nod, put his leather suitcase in the car's trunk, and motioned for Edward to sit beside him.

It wasn't like Edward had never been to a populous city before — of course he had. As a child, he'd frequently visited Chicago, the city where his mother's parents lived; he'd been to Denver and Seattle, and often spent the last week of July in Cheyenne during Frontier Days. But his Chicago days were long gone, and Cheyenne with its sixty thousand people, a few Starbucks and doctors who seemed to send their specialist-needing patients to Fort Collins didn't compare. Rough were the winters, so was the wind, and the demographics showed a fairly monotonous crowd.

It was nothing like this.

Flashing signs, fancy cars, scantily-clad women, attired puppies, advertisements bigger than his entire house, skyscrapers high enough to make you dizzy, even a few children in a leash; Edward felt like he had taken a step into the future. It toned down as soon as they had passed downtown and drove closer to Monterey Park, but the feel of cultural kaleidoscope didn't diminish. He was fascinated by the diversity and quantity of it all, but it felt overwhelming. He could only imagine being a permanent resident.

But once imagined, he hoped not to let it go farther than the shadows of his mind.

It felt exciting, too, and once Edward had paid the driver an amount that felt like he was ripping him off, Edward leaped up three flights of stairs, knocked twice on the raddled door behind apartment five, and waited. Footsteps were followed by a click, a _trrrt_, and the familiar face of a blonde friend.

"Ya made it!" Jasper opened the door wide, let Edward in and struggled with the lock before slamming the door shut. "Tricky one, that is," said Jasper, and gave Edward a one-armed hug. "Nice to see ya again, man. C'mon in."

Jasper had chopped off his hair, making the scars on his neck much more visible, but he stood tall and lean as usual. Despite his geeky nature, Jasper had the sort of cool attitude about him that Edward couldn't even dream of having, and he could've easily passed off as Rosalie's biological brother both in charm and traits were it not for the defined dimple on his chin.

"I see ya haven't known a barber quite a while." Jasper smiled, guiding the way to the living room around the clattered boxes.

"I see you have."

Jasper let out a laugh, running a hand through his short hair. "Yeah, I figured chicks would dig it. Ya should hear the stories about my neck. I'm so heroic ya'd think they'd already written an epic of my life."

Edward laughed as he set down his trunk to a corner of his empty room. The old, two-bedroom apartment was in desperate need of a new layer of paint, light bulbs and kitchen cutlery, but with the price they rented it, neither of them minded.

"Wouldya like to switch bedrooms? I crashed in the first one I found, I don't really care."

"'cause I'm notorious for my pickiness."

"True."

Jasper ordered a pizza, convinced Edward to watch _Top Gear_ from his laptop, and they spent the evening ignoring the mess of their apartment and catching up. Edward spoke of Jasper's young niece, and he in turn told Edward about leaving the company he was managing, moving around the States and doing some programming. He lived in a world Edward knew little about.

"Not that I have somethin' against ya, but why the sudden change?" asked Jasper. "I mean, LA? Not exactly your scenery."

Edward shrugged, taking a sip from his beer. "No reason. Just needed a change."

"About time," said Jasper. "Hey, a couple of friends and I are goin' on Friday, ya wanna come?"

Edward didn't. Not really.

"I can set ya up with a couple of chicks if ya want."

The idea immediately sounded even less appealing, but Edward rubbed his neck and felt the buzz of his alcohol as he asked, "Where?"

"Just a nightclub."

Then again, he had not gone out for three years. "Sure."

.-*-.-*-.

Edward's first day in Gordon's Pet Clinic felt incredibly nostalgic. It reminded him of his externship days in Cheyenne, except he would be getting paid for internship, and an internship lasted much longer than externship. His fellow interns were polite, albeit a little wary of his face, and overly enthusiastic about being interns in a small animal clinic. Some of it rubbed off on Edward, and after a few days, he got himself a few books to wipe off the cobwebs from the knowledge he used to grasp so well.

But he didn't sleep much. It had never been an issue in his life, and he wished his heart stopped being so demanding in the matters concerning Bella. He had even learned to live with one barely-functioning hand (the other being weak due to being in a cast for two months), and even had an agreement to not participate in the surgery for two weeks. He simply had to observe what others were doing, and he was okay with that. But now his heart wouldn't stop constricting weirdly every time he noticed a headline or a cover picture starring Isabella.

On Thursday evening, five days after his arrival, Edward got into a taxi and let the driver know his vague intention of ending up in Mountain Lilac Boulevard. He paid with a little extra, got out in front of an expensive-looking brand-name store, and chose a direction according to the numbers on the other houses.

He felt nervous, walking next to the expensive stores and endless wall-encircled mansions, and expecting the next one to be Bella's only to end up walking another block. But after a good half an hour of strolling, he halted to a stop next to dark iron gates connected to white stone, with _'Sobre las Nubes'_ engraved onto the silvery metal. There was no mention of Isabella, probably to protect the little piece of imaginary privacy she had.

Ten iron digits illustrated the right side of the gates, right next to a small icon of a phone, a button and a pattern of holes that formed a microphone. Edward observed the intimidating mansion at the end of the pathway, and just stood there. It was getting dark, and Edward pulled on his hoodie.

_Now what? _

He could call and check if she was home, but what would he say? _Hey, I was just passing by and wondered if you wanted to grab something to eat?_

Not a good idea.

He lingered for ten minutes before he turned around and left.

_.-*-.-*-._

Edward didn't even argue when Friday night arrived and Jasper introduced him to at least a dozen of girls, most of whom were obviously appalled by Edward's face. Not that it surprised him. But Jasper, being the slick guy with a taste for particularly curvy women, made up such ridiculous stories about Edward's apparent heroics (such impressive causes for his scars he almost wished they were true) that the girls grew comfortable around Edward. So much so, in fact, that once Edward downed the glass of bad yeast-tasting beer, he fled, sat on a barstool, and started to observe the dance floor.

He didn't regret getting out, but it wasn't at all his scenery. None of the girls interested him, and the one who did thought he wasn't interested. And he couldn't figure out how to fix that situation.

"Edwarrrd," slurred a girl once she stumbled onto a stool next to him. "Why so broody?"

He closed his eyes before facing a leggy brunette with killer heels and even more deadly-looking nails.

"Just tired," admitted Edward. The music was a little too loud, the bodies too close, the colours too bright. He felt dizzy.

"Wanna go 'n dance?"

"Not particularly," replied Edward, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not exactly used to these places."

"Aw, riiight! You're the farmer boy." She slid her hand along Edward's wrapped forehand, making it feel like a crawling insect. "You're kinda cute, y'know, in the dark."

With disinterest, Edward eyed the hand of a woman whose name he couldn't recall.

"But, farmer boy," continued the woman. "I have just the thing to loosen you up."

The moment Edward saw the minuscule white pill in her palm, stretched out toward him, he was nothing but apathetic. He jumped away from the woman as if stung, and didn't stop until he had exited the club. He ignored the boisterous scantily-clad crowd in the line, walked to an empty bus stop, slumped on the bench and took a deep breath. The humid air felt toxic, and not at all the fresh luxury he could breathe at home.

Why was he here?

For Bella. To explain his reaction and perhaps find the opportunity to mend the chance of a relationship they could've had. Heck, he would agree to be her friend if that's what she wanted.

Wouldn't he?

But how was he supposed to contact her? Today, he had gone, or tried to go, to Isabella's press conference, but he'd been told by several people that only the press could go in, and for obvious reasons, no-one believed that he knew her. He was laughed off as an obsessed fan.

It wasn't a status he was particularly proud of. He didn't _want_ to go to her gates every day. It wasn't his intention to stalk her. The only thing he wanted was an opportunity, however brief, to explain himself to Bella and to apologise.

But how was he supposed to achieve that if she left him without her number or an email, walked around with swarms of bodyguards and held press conferences behind closed doors?

.-*-.-*-.

"So, who's the lucky lady?" asked Jasper, glued to his laptop late at night when Edward arrived from one of his unsuccessful tours around Bella's mansion. He had been going there every day, simply to see if he could catch Isabella when she was returning home. So far, he had failed pathetically. He kept himself updated on the vague whereabouts of Bella, but it made him feel like a creep.

This evening, Edward had gathered his guts and called the mansion from the gates. No-one answered.

Wary and unprepared, Edward took off his new jacket and slumped down on the couch beside his roommate. "What do you mean?"

"The only people capable of wrapping men in knots are women," said Jasper. "And as much as I paid attention you left Irina, a willing woman, alone into a nightclub. So, do I know her?"

Edward fiddled with the remote before answering. "Not really."

"A-ha!" Jasper grinned. "So there _is_ someone."

Careful not to admit anything before he actually got the chance to speak to Bella, Edward muttered, "Don't get too excited, it's… it's nothing official."

"What, ya wanna get married before I see the girl or what?"

"No," denied Edward, embarrassed. "Of course not. Just give it a little time." He abruptly changed the subject. "And by the way, is Irina a close friend of yours?"

"Not particularly, why?"

"You might wanna be careful with who she offers her drugs to."

Jasper sat up. "You're shittin' me."

"Why do you think I left so suddenly? I don't mind going out from time to time, but if you get involved in drugs, or if you expect me to, we're done, okay? I refuse to have anything to do with that."

Jasper looked horrified. "I've never. I swear. I knew she used to have problems, but I thought she'd quit. I've never tried. I have no intention to, either."

"Good." Edward managed a smile, already tired of living in the city. "I trust you, but let me know if that changes."

A mere two weeks after he had somewhat adjusted to the life in California, Edward noticed that he couldn't see well into the distance. He suspected his vision had worsened during the summer; it had become especially apparent when he didn't see the cliff and nearly drowned the famous actress. So, on his way home from the clinic, he stepped into the LensCrafters in Montebello Town Center, at a night when they had a 'free optometrist deal', and got himself glasses, -1.5 for his right eye and -2.25 for his left one. The doctor warned that his vision would be getting worse as he aged, but Edward got his thick-framed glasses with a content heart. He could've gotten ones without frames, but those tilted much more than the ones with proper frames.

Geeky glasses it was.

Time seemed to drag as Edward made no progress whatsoever; he tried to call more often, but no-one was ever home. No-one ever answered, so he kept going, feeling more like a creep every single day. But he had no choice, no-one to turn to, no connections or time to follow her around for the whole day.

Internship wasn't overwhelmingly difficult, but it did require all his attention.

.-*-.-*-.

On a late evening on the fifteenth of October, while Edward continued to update his rusty knowledge about small animal anatomy and Jasper was glued to his laptop due to an unexpected assignment, a name reached Edward's ears that piqued his interest. He hadn't had the time to try and wait for Bella today, but as he raised his eyes, he saw a familiar female face on the screen. He immediately picked up the remote and turned up the volume.

"…_the guarded gates of the grand Sobre las Nubes, a few amateur video clips show us the consistent stalker who, according to our recourses, has been coming here _every single night_ for at least two weeks. In this clip…"_

The hair on the back of Edward's neck bristled.

"…_but even with these three video clips, his face is too far away for recognition, and he always chooses to pay her a visit in the dark. Isabella's representative let us know they have doubled the security and are confident that they will catch the armed stalker the next time he arrives. A trusted anonymous resource notified us that we may be, in fact, dealing with a potential fugitive from a mental institution, who could be highly dangerous, so beware of…"_

Edward paled, staring at the screen in complete disbelief. A potential fugitive? He had only observed the surroundings, waiting for Bella, and never stayed for longer than ten minutes. How the hell did he end up in MTV news for that?

Jasper, who had raised his eyes from the laptop due to the raised volume, misinterpreted Edward's incredulity.

"Can you imagine being famous enough to have a sick psycho stalk you?" mused Jasper, shrugging off the news. "What a pathetic creep. I'm sure they'll find the stalker in no time. But that's LA for you, Edward, no need to look so shocked." He refocused his eyes on his laptop. "Can you tune it down a little? I really need to finish this tonight."

"Right, sorry." Edward fumbled with the remote, shut down the television and reopened his _Review Questions and Answers for Veterinary Technicians_ fourth edition by Thomas Colville without actually registering the content. He'd read it before, and he didn't have an exam coming. It no longer seemed important. How the hell had people picked up on him going to the gates of Isabella's mansion? And what did they mean by _armed_? The modest three-inch blade he carried barely qualified as _armed_ in Edward's eyes. He'd had to render up the self-made pocket-knife he had so foolishly taken to the airport, and considered himself lucky to have been given permission to step onto the plane at all after the unnecessary incident.

Edward figured he had made the right choice by wearing a hoodie (which actually reinforced his new 'stalker' image), because if he had shown his face, the news would have immediately made headlines. (If it didn't already.) On the other hand, if he had shown who he was, Isabella might have recognised him and understood that his purpose was not to stalk her, but to find a chance to talk to her. That's all he wanted — to talk; to have the chance to explain and see if she still wanted him on some level.

But what if Bella already suspected his identity and strengthened her security _because_ of that? What if that was her message for him to back off? The idea hurt. Could it have been true?

Why couldn't she have left him with more than a mere address? It would've made things so much easier.

"I'm gonna go for a walk," said Edward, set down his textbook and grabbed a jacket. It was 11:34 PM, but he didn't care. Jasper gave him a brief nod without halting his typing. Edward walked down three flights of stairs, and listened to the echo of his steps before he threw open the front door and inhaled a breath. A flashing and loud police car rushed past the apartment building, but the sparse traffic seemed otherwise calm. Edward zipped up his new jacket, and with his hands in pockets, turned right and started to stroll without aim. He couldn't see a single star in spite of the fact that there seemed to be no cloud cover.

He felt like a fish out of water. Los Angeles was not a place for him, and he should have known better than to think he could survive a year here even if his intentions of finding Bella failed. Which they did. He had no intention of showing his face behind her gates again, and it had been stupid of him to underestimate Bella's availability. Just plain naïve, really. He could have tracked her down to every interview, meeting and even to the set, but the fact of the matter was… no one had any business letting him speak to Isabella, and he imagined more than a few fans giving the same false excuse to get closer to her. He couldn't blame the guards for not trusting him.

So what should he do?

Give up?

Maybe it would be better this way. She was too good for a guy like him, and her life clearly didn't encourage his interference. But if he booked a flight home right away, he would not only be forced to live in complete solitude, he'd be unemployed, horseless and miserable. He couldn't give up on his internship, he'd just started it. But reaching Isabella seemed impossible, and he couldn't continue trying to reach her.

So be it.

Having made the depressive but necessary decision, Edward turned around and started to stroll back to the apartment building. He stopped in front of a homeless woman he hadn't seen before. Edward took off his new jacket. _For Bella_, he thought as he covered the woman's feet with the cloth before he continued his lonely jacketless walk.

.-*-.-*-.

On his way home from the Gordon's Pet Clinic on the second of November, Edward watched the rare dark cloud as it neared Los Angeles and thought nothing of it until the cloud proved to have a reason for such darkness. He was drenched with minutes.

He spotted a little cafeteria across the street and rushed to the comforting dryness of _Luna's Coffee_. It was a wooden-walled homey place, and once he ran a hand through his hair to rid himself of the clingy wetness of his overly long hair, he ordered himself a cup of regular coffee. Edward thanked the distracted woman and started to make his way to a seat next to the wall as his eyes fell on a brunette girl in the corner. Her elbows were resting on the sides of the papers in front of her, her brow wrinkled and palm semi-covering her downcast eyes.

Edward stopped his pace and blinked several times. It had to be her. Out of all the places to finally encounter Isabella Swan, it never occurred to him it could happen so randomly. After the colossal disaster of being covered in the news as an anonymous persistent stalker and trying to find a person who would let him talk to her, he had given up. It was impossible to get close to her.

And yet, there she sat in a situation so utterly normal it almost felt mundane.

Edward did not even notice where he placed his coffee cup as he walked in front of her in a daze. She did not look up. But the massive orange-haired man in a tux immediately got up from his place around the next table, placed a firm hand on Edward's chest and made him back away.

"Yer not welcome," said the man in a gentle, accented voice. "She wants peace."

"You don't understand —"

"Naw fans."

"I'm not a — …I just want to talk to her!"

"Naw fans," he calmly repeated.

Desperate, Edward abruptly leaned on his left and emphasised, "_Isabella_."

Bella snapped her head up, and her eyes widened. She had thought her over-active imagination had run amok, but there, just a few feet from her, stood Edward in all his wet-haired, frantic-looking glory. Butterflies erupted in her stomach, and she felt her face pale. After three and a half months of pointless longing, she had accepted that she would never hear from him again.

And yet, there he stood as if nothing had changed.

"Sir, ye cannot —"

"Will," whispered Bella. She got up and placed a hand on the muscle mountain's arm. "I know this man."

William didn't lower his hand. "Is he safe?"

Bella gave him a nod. The big guy apologised and sat around the next table, re-opening the minuscule laptop he had been using previously. He offered them enough attention to be certain the scarred man did not attempt anything as he had yet to earn William's trust.

Bella locked eyes with Edward, and they stood in silence, neither fully believing the sight in front of them. Bella's brown hair no longer fell past her shoulders, she had faint blue circles around her eyes; she wore dark skinny jeans, a blue cardigan and a careful expression, still unsure as to how Edward happened to be there. She wanted to reach out and make sure she wasn't dreaming, but at the same time, she didn't want to pinch herself because if this were a dream, the least she wanted to do was to wake up. Edward's hair had grown so long he could've easily pulled it into a pony-tail, his tan had darkened since Bella saw him, but the most unfamiliar to Bella were the thick-framed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

Edward's memories didn't do her justice, and he felt like her presence filled a hole he had been trying to ignore altogether.

"Um," started Bella, hesitating as she averted her eyes and motioned at the empty place next to her. "Would you like to sit?"

Still in a daze, Edward pulled out a chair and absentmindedly observed the empty glass in front of him. He had memorised all the necessary apologies he needed to make, he had reiterated the potential conversations and arguments, but now that he sat there, right in front of the famous Isabella Swan, he was rendered speechless. He could not utter a single word.

She looked fantastic; slim, athletic and feminine, and not at all as if she had escaped from Auschwitz. Her strawberry-scented smell filled his nostrils and he closed his eyes, inhaling. Reminiscing.

"Are you okay?"

He snapped his eyes open, nodding. Even in her hesitating state she seemed more confident than he could ever be, and he wondered if he should have ignored her. She was an unattainable world-famous actress and a busy person with an impressive future ahead of her. Even if she forgave him and gave him a chance, what did he have to offer her? Suddenly, he felt like an awkward intruder from her past who read too much into a single gift. It was only a gift.

"What are you doing here?" asked Bella, almost whispering.

Embarrassed, Edward rubbed his wrist, starting to stand up. "I… This was a mistake. I'm sorry. I—I shouldn't have intruded."

Bella's face paled as she abruptly stood. "No!" Not thinking, she gripped his arm. "Please… Edward. Don't go." Much to her mortification, her voice cracked. Refraining from taking her small hand into his large one, Edward carefully sat back down, not holding her gaze. He figured the least he could do was to apologise for his lack of trust in her.

"You have glasses now," stated Bella, breaking the silence and feeling lame as she motioned at the glasses on his nose.

"Yeah." Edward pushed them back, feeling how they tilted slightly because of his scar. "Ridiculous, really."

"No," argued Bella. "They suit you."

Edward shrugged in a 'whatever you say' way, and continued to observe the empty glasses in front of him. Bella didn't push the subject of Edward being here if that meant his leaving, and the moment Edward realised the existence of a second glass in front of him meant that Bella wasn't here alone, he was startled by a throaty voice.

"Do you need a moment?"

Edward watched as Bella's eyes snapped to a figure above him, and he felt like his heart was squeezed into a golf ball before it seemed to expand, blast, and dwindle into a formless mass of desperation in a place where his intestines used to exist. Edward fumbled with his chair and stood up, facing the tall — _seven feet for sure,_ thought Edward — actor whose features he immediately recognised. Edward swallowed, observing the muscled man in designer clothes as he placed the chair back into its place. He suddenly wished he, too, had the ability to act.

To act as if his heart hadn't just ceased to exist.

* * *

**A/N:** Congratulations! You have just finished reading (or pretending to, depending on your willingness to be bored) the most mind-numbing chapter yet! I'm ridiculously jetlagged, but the good news is, the next chapter will be much more exciting! I hope. I'm currently sitting in a castle with a view to King's College Chapel (don't be jealous... be _very_ jealous! *laughs*), sipping tea. I just finished studying Chemistry for five hours. I feel silly, sitting in this study room with Cambridge students writing their dissertations and essays. And then there's me. With fanfiction open. Yeah. Kill me.

I'm going back home on Tuesday after being away for more than eight months. It'd be awesome if you appreciated the time I spend writing by offering feedback. If you want. Criticise and throw tomʌʌtoes. Or smile. Or tell me about your day. I'd especially love it if you told me your favourite song.


	11. Necessary Conversations

**A Cry for the Moon**  
by Merevaik

**Chapter 11: Necessary Conversations**_  
Wyoming_

"Take a seat."

Edward put his hat onto the table and sat in front of Dr. Joshua Uley. On this Saturday morning, Betty Rock Café was sparsely crowded and very quiet, perfect for some friendly conversation. It made Edward uncomfortable. He ordered the cheapest coffee, observed the surroundings and fiddled with his hat. Anything to avoid facing Dr. Uley, a father of his friend as well as a friend of his father's, calmly regarding him from across the table with not a stir or a suggestion of breathing, just two sharp eyes behind his frameless glasses. Studying him.

"Doesn't take a psychologist to understand you're nervous."

You think? Edward wanted to ask, but didn't.

"I thought you'd bailed on me."

"So did I."

"Yet you didn't. Why?"

Edward shrugged, sighing. He drew a hand wrapped in gauze bandage through his hair in a futile attempt to pull his fringe on the side. If it were a trifle longer, he could tuck it behind his ears, but now it only annoyed him.

"I can't make you talk, Edward," said Dr. Uley. "This can only work if you want it to, and even then, it takes time to heal, especially if you've been in denial for so long."

"I'm not in denial," replied Edward without thinking. Once again, he sensed the way Dr. Uley made him not only feel like a child, but apparently act like one as well.

"I'm sorry," he apologised, "I'm not used to… I didn't mean to be so brusque. It's just — This entire situation is kind of weird. How do we go about this? Are you going to ask me about my childhood and watch me wail as I relive my traumas? Everyone's got a button. Everyone's ashamed of something. I'm not the only one with issues."

"And I'm not claiming you are."

"Then why are we here?"

"Because you've agreed you need help, and I'm here to help you."

"That sounds fairly simple."

Dr. Uley leaned away from the table, pushed up his glasses and intertwined his fingers. "Now, let's start from the beginning. Tell me about your parents."

.-*-.-*-.

_California_

One of Bella's Puma jogging shoes left a trail after she had unceremoniously sloshed her foot right in the middle of a yesterday's mud puddle. The large T-shirt belonging to her brother wobbled wildly in the wind, and her fingers had started to feel numb. So had her feet. She rounded a corner, broke into a sprint and slowed down after the downhill route hit a low point. First sunbeams lit up the undefined wall of smog a few hundred metres ahead. Panting, Bella chose a sparsely crowded path right next to the Pacific Ocean, turned around, and stopped altogether. She sniffed, maneuvered her arm into the shirt and wiped her cheeks with a sleeve. After a second of fighting with her emotions, she crouched and hid her face between her knees. Quiet sobs rocked her body.

A few frightened tourists approached her to ask if she was alright. Bella hid her eyes behind her palm, offered them a nod, and supressed her sobs to discourage their concern.

She just wanted to cry in peace.

After a minute of hesitation, the worried strangers backed away and occasionally eyed her until the path made it impossible to continue watching her. Bella peeked out from behind her fingers, and having made sure they were gone, sat cross-legged right in the middle of this path. She sniffed, took several shuddering breaths, and rested her palms on her eyes. Her muscles ached from crying. Her swollen eyes felt tender.

And she was doing so well. Directors wanted her, casting supervisors specifically asked for her, she got involved in a pre-production of _A Shred of Evidence_ after endless castings and should've been having a blast. She was merely twenty one years old, single, famous and self-sufficient. She had contracts with a promising set of films.

She was doing incredibly well, career-wise.

She had great friends, and Alice, but never before had she realised how much her lifestyle encouraged loneliness. She couldn't remember feeling as lonely as she did now. Maybe she hadn't really had anything to compare, or anyone with whom she wished to share her time and experiences, or who would listen and laugh and tell her how ridiculous her fame was.

At first, she had thought Edward hadn't found the time to answer her. Maybe he was busy. But after more than two months of no response, Alice got annoyed at Bella for repeatedly asking (three times) if Alice had remembered to put Bella's phone number on the box. She assured her that she most certainly had. Bella apologised for doubting Alice and went back to waiting. It was the trickiest kind of snail-paced time that Alice fortunately filled with interviews, occasional parties, and which Bella solved by working until the point of exhaustion. Alice seemed to think Bella would get over her ridiculous infatuation with the farmer. But when it became clear that she did not, could not or would not, and when Bella went from being sad and exhausted to being embarrassed by her inability to let go, and still exhausted, the actress started to hide her fragility. Alice made several barbed remarks directed at her unreasonable and obviously unrequited love.

What happened to the Alice who had joked that if a lucky guy won Bella's heart, she'd approve? There wasn't a sign of her.

Bella begrudgingly admitted that Alice had changed in various ways, and not in a positive direction. Her best friend, a girl she met in a concert when she was merely fifteen years old, wholesome and fashionable, fun to be with and an unwavering support through various difficulties, had (quite literally) become a shadow of who she used to be. As teenagers, they had made fun of the size-zero worshippers and those who fell in the trap of hideous — and almost always unnecessary — plastic surgery. Alice and Bella swore to smack each other on the head if they saw the other friend starting to become one of the victims of such pressure.

The pressure had always been there, lingering and hovering under the blanket of _you're not good enough without size this boobs and waist and bottom and lips and eyebrows_. Some buckled under pressure. Most who did, didn't admit it.

Yesterday, as Bella let herself into Alice's house and waited for her friend in the kitchen, her eyes fell on a magazine with a creepishly realistic scribble of a boob job. Bella had seen those magazines. The advertisements promised a more perfect (_impossible_, thought Bella, _how can anything be _more_ perfect?_) and a more desirable body, no scars and no difference between natural and silicone breasts. Bella leaned closer and blinked.

But it wasn't a magazine at all. It wasn't an advertisement. A letter addressed to Alice proved Bella's suspicions, and she nearly felt her intestines twist when she noticed breasts weren't the only body parts Alice thought of changing. Eyebrow lift. Fuller lips. Nose job.

_Nose job. _

Bella blinked furiously, not willing to admit that Alice could possibly be considering any of those. Not only was Alice far prettier than Bella, she was merely twenty two years old. Bella took a breath, closed her eyes and willed herself to stay calm. Maybe it wasn't for Alice. Maybe she was helping out a friend.

_But the letter was addressed to her. From a plastic surgery clinic!_

And the second Alice rounded the corner and their eyes locked, the look in Alice's eyes immediately confirmed what Bella had just witnessed. Alice approached the table and decidedly but silently gathered the contents of her letter. Bella held her gaze before she looked at Alice. _Really_ looked at her, from the tips of her toes to the short and stylish hairdo. Alice was beautiful. Skinny to the point where you'd think she'd break, but undoubtedly beautiful.

"But you're beautiful," whispered Bella, trying to reason with her. Sadly, she repeated, "You're beautiful." Pressing her lips together, Alice lifted her chin and the look she gave Bella could only be described as _pretend you didn't see it and I won't lie to you_.

In spite of meeting highly respected and talented actors at the party, Bella could not get the image of that plastic surgery sheet from her head. She felt jittery and anxious, constantly on the verge of stomping over to Alice and solving the matter once and for all. Her throat was tight, and as she feared she'd burst all her problems out to a stranger, she excused herself early. She didn't look for Alice.

How would she address the issue without hurting Alice? And when had her best friend become so insecure as to be under the delusion that she could fix her problems with a scalpel?

More importantly, how could Bella convince her otherwise?

Even before Bella opened her front door, she could hear the unmistakeable sound of Van Morrison's version of _Comfortably Numb_ blaring through the speakers. Her little brother's taste in décor might've been a tad eccentric, but his taste in music came down to mere two singers: Van Morrison and Bob Dylan. Or the two together. Once or twice, Bella heard a different singer singing a different song, but eventually, Mike changed the song and his two favourites took the stage again.

"Mi-ike!"

Unsurprisingly, there was no answer.

Bella slid off her shoes and followed the source of all the noise to her living room, where, in a blatant disregard for newer video games, Tyler and Mike were kneeling in front of her television, playing an old version of Super Mario. Mike was waddling toward the screen, hunched in his mission to press the buttons as hard as he could. A few feet away, Tyler sat, cross-legged, equally as engrossed in the game. They were both slightly flushed.

"Just kill the damn turtle, Mike! Shoot." He leaned left, toward the screen. _"Shoot."_

"I'm trying!"

"Try harder!"

"Wait, I can't... jump... on the damn fish," replied Mike.

"Just shoot them."

Mike did as he was told, returned to save Tyler from the turtles he struggled with, and they continued to shout orders over the music. Bella failed to catch their attention without bothering them, and went to change into her pajamas. As she returned, Mike and Tyler had crawled closer to the screen as if cornering it would help them win. Finding their enthusiasm amusing, Bella sat on the couch and ate their leftover pizza. Ten minutes of yelling later, the remote controls were tossed aside. Bella observed them. Tyler towered over Mike, as always, but even if their height difference wasn't as obvious as it used to be, the contrast between their skin and hair color was striking. Bella's brother had fair hair, light blue eyes and skin even paler than Bella's; Tyler, on the other hand, was one of those blessed people who tanned immediately. He had curls in his black hair, a strong nose and dark brown eyes.

"Do you think Bella would mind if we — Jesus!" Tyler jumped as his eyes landed on Bella. "Jesus Christ, how long have you sat there?"

Bella turned to her left. "Yes, Jesus. Didn't even notice you. How long've you been there?"

Mike laughed and went to hug her sister. "Sorry. When did you arrive? We couldn't hear you."

"A while ago."

"Why're you home so early?"

Bella shrugged, sipping Mike's soda.

"Never mind. You up for a movie tonight?"

"Sure." She smiled in spite of her exhaustion. "What do you have in mind?"

Mike raised his eyebrows, opening his mouth, but Bella shook her head before her brother could utter a word.

"No way." Her smile vanished. "Anything but that."

"C'mon, Bells. I haven't even seen _Remembering_ yet. We were supposed to watch it tonight."

"No way. You can watch me some other time, you know how I feel about seeing myself on the screen. Anything but that, please."

"Anything? Like _The Ring_, maybe?"

"Sure," agreed Bella without a struggle, continuing to gulp down his soda.

"Aren't you compliant tonight," said Mike, surprised.

Bella shrugged, turned off the lights, and sat down on one of her love seats. The left armrest had worn off from the middle and it created a dimple perfect for resting her head, so she curled on her favourite spot and waited for Mike and Tyler to put on the film. Normally, Bella would've done anything to avoid watching a horror movie, but today, her emotional capacity had shrunk to apathy. Sheer disinterest. She needed a change from the pain and hurt Edward's apparent disinterest caused and the concern she felt about Alice's newfound priorities. The loneliness she felt, the confusion that was her friendship with Jacob, the sheer exhaustion… She was tired.

"Are you alright?" Tyler asked, his leg resting on his knee and hand behind Mike, on the back of the couch. Mike's eyes landed on his sister as well, and for the first time this evening, he noticed how lifeless her eyes seemed.

"Okay," shrugged Bella, sighing. "Why?"

"See, that's why I don't like dealing with women. 'Okay' is right up there with the girl-esque terms for 'I feel like shit, but I'm not bothered to tell you'."

"Don't take it so personally, Tyler." Bella chuckled without humor. "I'll be okay. No reason to worry."

Mike leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Really?"

He wasn't mocking. It was a serious request to share what was bothering her, and that made Bella straighten her back a little to look back at them. Both were staring at her, ignoring the trailers from the TV and waiting for her to answer.

Bella contemplated for a short moment before she replied, "I guess it's just… I don't know, have you…"

"Is it that farmer dude? Who, by the way, is an idiot if he hasn't contacted you yet."

She took a sharp breath. "Yes, it's that, too, but I don't want to talk about that right now. It's just — have you guys noticed anything different about Alice lately?"

Mike frowned. "Different?"

"Yeah. I wasn't even away for a month, but it seems I don't know her at all anymore. She just seems so… so, I don't know…"

"Anorexic?" offered Tyler.

Bella pursed her lips, sighing. "I guess. It's not just that, though. She's planning on some plastic surgery, and she… she doesn't really need any, you know? I just, I can't understand. We used to make fun of all the actors and actresses who're not even twenty-five and already made friends with the plastic surgeons. And now… she'll be one of them, and she doesn't need any of it."

Mike sighed. "She's under a lot of pressure."

"But she always has been!" argued Bella. "How come it's different this time?"

"That's the thing. It's not," replied Mike simply. He turned down the volume on the TV, the film forgotten for now.

"What do you mean?"

"It's not different. You probably didn't notice, but when you made fun of all that shit, _you_ were the one who didn't understand why it was necessary. Alice merely kept her mouth shut. I think she feels a little inferior next to you," said Mike, like it was a widely acknowledged truth.

Bella, who had never even imagined anyone could feel jealous of her, for whatever reason, merely blinked at Mike. "That's ridiculous."

"Believe it or not, it's probably true."

"But that doesn't make any sense. She would've told me if she felt like I was taking all the glory, or something. I've never — I mean, why didn't she tell me? It's not like I bathe in the attention. She could easily outshine me if she wanted to. I'm not that special."

"Seriously, Bells? That's bullshit. Can you imagine how difficult it must be for her to be your friend? You were literally chosen as the most beautiful woman on Earth. Do you have any idea how many guys ask me for your number, the moment they find out you're my sister? Because there are many. You're, I dunno, real somehow, and that turns them nuts. You're like Hollywood's gem or something. You're not like the rest of them."

"How much tequila did you take before I got here?"

"You don't believe me? Tyler, tell me I'm not bullshitting."

Tyler took a piece of pizza. "He's not. You've no idea how many guys we beat up every day."

"Tyler!"

"Ah, you know what I mean. Ever since that FHM list, things just went crazy."

"But that's just some stupid magazine! It's not like they take shots of every woman on the planet. It's just a random list of the faces people tend to recognise."

"Nevertheless, it's you they really like. 'There's something about your sister,' they keep telling me. Of course, you're amazing. But imagine being Alice, having her best friend, declared the sexiest woman on Earth and whatnot, by her side, hearing how amazing and beautiful you are and shit. It's almost like — remember when we were little and whenever we met Charles' friends or acquaintances, they were always telling us how we must be so lucky and asking if we knew how amazing our dad is? It's kinda like that for us. For Alice. And being as close to you as she is, imagine how many people, journalists and whoever, want to know more about you? Imagine, if she slipped once and said one sentence too many, you're already on front pages of most of the magazines?" said Mike. "Do you get the picture?"

"Well, shit, Mike," said Bella, forgetting about language as she was gaping at her younger brother. "I feel like you're going through hell even knowing me. Jesus, I'm so sorry."

"Oh, no, we're not," denied Mike, smiling. "We're pretty proud of you, you know. You're a pretty amazing actress. I just thought… don't judge Alice too quickly. I'm sure she supports you one hundred percent. She obviously doesn't need any surgery, but I guess she sees it as a sort of way out, you know? Be her own person and be appreciated and whatnot. Just… be patient."

Bella hopped off her love seat, and hugged her brother. "Thank you. You're pretty intelligent for a blonde brother." Mike laughed, and Bella hugged Tyler as well. She didn't feel like watching a horror movie, but as she didn't want to be alone with her thoughts, she took a blanket and curled up in her love seat. She knew she would find a solution, a way to show Alice how important Alice was to her, Bella was sure of it.

Sleep consumed her only two minutes later.

.-*-.-*-.

Edward was surprised that he found the politeness to offer his hand to the hunk. "Edward Masen. Nice — really nice to meet you, Mr. Black."

The guy nodded, offering him a genuine smile as his eyes flickered from Bella to Edward. "Likewise."

The mere passing of a quiet second was enough to make Edward uncomfortable. He was desperate to get out of their way. "I'm sorry, I—I didn't realise I was intruding." He averted his eyes, clearing his throat and mentally cursing himself for not being prepared for this. "I better get going, the rain seems to have stopped. Have a nice evening."

He locked eyes with Bella, attempting not to show how hurt he was; a second later, he turned around. But before he could go, a hand was placed on his shoulder. "Hey, Edward, was it? Where's the rush? Come 'n join us."

A blindingly white Hollywood smile was flashed in front of his face, but Edward hesitated, gauging Bella's reaction. She seemed wary as she watched the interaction between the two men, and the hesitation in her eyes was enough for Edward to decline. "I — …I should go, I really need to, um, study."

Jacob let out a laugh, pulling out a chair as he motioned at it. "Study, huh? I thought you were a farmer? Really, it'd be awesome to finally have the chance to talk to you. Little Bella here won't shut up about you."

Edward's eyes snapped to the actress's. Bella flushed and shifted in her seat.

"Really?" Edward didn't hide the undertone of bitterness. Suddenly, he wanted to challenge her. So maybe he wasn't a wealthy world-class actor — yes, Edward had checked Jacob's background — but he had feelings, too, and the apparent double-standards angered him. But was it worth it to sit through a dinner with these two lovebirds and pretend to be happy for them?

"C'mon, man, it'll be my treat," said Jacob._ You look poor so I'll be noble and impress my girl by buying you a drink. _

"Uh, I have my coffee right there," said Edward, motioning at the vague direction of an empty table.

Jacob grinned. "Then it's settled." He sat down, waiting for Edward to do the same. The farmer knew he had to find an excuse because he was sure he could not sit through Bella's date and ruin it. He was much too angry at his own stupidity.

"I, uh, I really do need to go," repeated Edward, not quite as firmly as he wanted to, but decisively enough. "I didn't realise I was interrupting. Have a nice evening." He turned around, took his coffee and felt eyes on his back as he left the cafeteria. As soon as the door closed, Edward inhaled a breath and leaned against the wall. It had not stopped raining, but he welcomed the cold wetness for the distraction it provided.

He had considered the chances of Bella and Jacob, but to see it live… fuck, it hurt. What had he been expecting? Suddenly, Edward saw how utterly pathetic his plan to come here had been. What a waste of time.

The door burst open and the same giant held the door open for a frantic-looking actress. Edward immediately pushed himself off the wall, gave her a curt nod and turned around.

"Edward?" whispered Bella.

He halted to a stop and turned his head, but did not meet her eyes. "It's okay." His own voice sounded strange to him. "I… I didn't know. I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to interrupt. Please continue."

Bella took a step so close Edward could feel the warmth of her body. She set a hand on his forearm, and the sweet torture of her touch that he had been craving for froze him in his spot. He could not move even if he wanted to.

"Please, Edward," said Bella, her warm breath fanning across his neck as she stood a step higher from him. "I just want to have the chance to talk to you." She swallowed, but did not blink as she locked eyes with his. "Do you… do you really hate me that much?"

Rain splattered on their clothes, but neither seemed to notice.

Edward muttered, "I don't hate you."

"Then why are you fleeing?"

"I didn't…" Edward sighed. "Your life is none of my business, but please don't force me to sit through a dinner with Black."

"What — you don't like his movies?" joked Bella gently in an attempt to soothe the emotions. "Jake was the last Superman, you know."

_I'm competing with Superman? Gee. I wonder who wins._

"What do you say? Please, at least let me take you to a dinner. I promise not to force you into anything more, but I really need you to hear my reasons for why I did… what I did. Just a dinner."

Edward watched the vulnerability in her eyes, and shut his own for a moment. "Tonight?"

Bella felt a surge of hope. "Whenever you're free."

"You're awfully generous with your time for a busy girl like you."

"I'm generous when I want someone to be a priority," explained Bella. "I owe you that much." She squeezed Edward's hand, ready to plead, but she did not have to go so far.

Edward swallowed. "Okay."

"Really?"

"Really," answered Edward, loving the way her whole face broke into a grin. "One condition, though."

"Anything."

"I'd rather it were between me and you. I mean, I'm not going to take advantage of you or anything, but I'd like to talk to you in private. Would Black mind?"

Puzzled, Bella frowned. "Why on Earth would Jake mind?"

Edward hunched and averted his eyes. "Right. Sorry. Never mind."

As if remembering what she was doing, Bella unclutched her arm and took a step back. She lowered her eyes. "So when're you free?"

"Whenever."

Bella offered him a nod before turning to her bodyguard. "Will, please make sure Edward isn't going to flee again. I'll be right back."

"I didn't come here to wreck —" started Edward, but Bella had already stepped into the café. The stout man in a tux quietly observed Edward's presence, and took a step closer as he watched Edward's eyes settle on the taxis.

"Don't even think about it." His tone was gentle, but the way he stepped right between Edward and the two taxis referred to nothing but.

"I'm not," replied Edward, remembering his manners as he observed the sizeable man in front of him; he was not taller than Edward, and while the farmer had his fair share of ranch-induced muscle mass, he felt incredibly lean next to the man whom he assumed to be Bella's bodyguard.

"Edward Masen." The Wyomingite introduced himself, offering his recovered but still painful right hand.

"William MacLean." The man accepted it, nodding. "Nice to meet ye."

Edward quickly withdrew his hand before it got accidentally crushed, and they avoided looking at each other before Edward broke the silence. He suddenly felt optimistic. "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

William leaned his head on the side and cracked his neck. "Ye're the guy who made her feel like shit," said William calmly. "I might not know ye, but I'll follow that for now until ye prove worthy of her attention."

Edward couldn't help but take a small step back. "Fair enough."

"Fair? Naw, not really," continued William. "But necessary. She might be my boss, but I'm also her friend. Never forget that."

.-*-.-*-.

The Flowing Wing considered itself to be one of the top restaurants in the city, and as such, getting a table unannounced was unheard of. That's why, when Bella had assured her favourite body-guard that he mustn't worry about her safety, she entered the restaurant to witness a stare-down between Edward and the sceptical-looking receptionist.

"With all due respect, sir —" sighed Edward, finding it humiliating to be arguing with a man who had so blatantly laughed into his face after Edward claimed to be with _Isabella_. He had taken one glance at Edward's clothes — yes, the Wyomingite was (pain)fully aware of not being properly attired, but there was nothing he could do about it now — and simply laughed.

"So, you are trying to tell me —" The man paused for effect, letting his eyes over Edward's jean-clad legs, a simple white cardigan, and openly grimaced at the scar on his face. "That you are here with —"

Bella cleared her throat. The receptionist's eyes flickered on the actress, and he paled quicker than a chameleon. Edward wanted to take a photo of his expression, or kiss the heck out of Bella for saving him. Both, if possible.

"Miss, uh, I…"

Bella grinned from ear to ear. "You must be new here, Mr. Samuels."

"I… uh…"

"Is Al around? And if not, could I see the manager? I wouldn't mind if you let him know that Bella's here."

"Uh, of course…" he fumbled out from behind the wooden counter. "This way, Isabella."

He guided them to a table in a distant corner. The place was far enough that they wouldn't be overheard, but close enough to recognise the actress. Bella didn't look at the crowd in the room as she passed, sat with her back to them, and thanked the receptionist who seemed to be scared to death. As soon as he had left, Bella switched off her phone and offered Edward an apologetic smile. "I don't normally do this, trust me. I don't. I don't like exploiting my position. But I've been here before, and I know for a fact they don't let paparazzi in. Plus, I really, really need to have a conversation with you without anyone interrupting us."

"Thank you for helping me, you know, out there," said Edward, and added with a smile, "I can see it's not all bad, the fame. Quite useful, actually."

Bella smiled shyly, bashfully, almost as if expecting to be yelled at. "So, how are you?" she started and silently observed him as he rubbed his hands together; his shoulders tense and head lowered. He let his eyes linger on the fancy people in this expensive restaurant and once again remembered he hadn't even changed out of his work clothes.

"I'm…" _Miserable? Missing you more than I realised? Bloody confused by your gift?_ "…alright." He shrugged as if the action made his words truer. "Been better, I guess. But nothing to complain about. How about you?"

"That's… good," said Bella, not accustomed to dealing with awkwardness in a conversation with Edward. "I'm — I'm okay."

An involuntary smile crept on Edward's lips. "Have you realised you always say okay? Not alright. Not fine. But okay."

"I do?" The awkwardness ceased as Bella let out a chuckle. "Okay."

Edward laughed, changing the subject. "How's work?"

"We're almost finished with a musical, but there's still lots of interviews and a couple of castings for possible future projects. We're preparing for a project which will probably be pretty intense, but I'm excited. It's called _A Shred of Evidence_. I've read the book, and it'll be worth it." She sighed, smiling slightly. "Speaking of which, what do you mean by studying? Did you enter a university in LA?"

"Not exactly." Edward shrugged. "I'm involved in an internship program in a small animal clinic. Not my first preference, but it was the only one — …anyway, it was a good offer. Not equine medicine, but a great opportunity nonetheless."

"You're a veterinarian?" asked Bella, genuinely surprised. She tentatively added, "Do I smell some hypocrisy?"

"It's completely different," said Edward immediately. "And you know it."

"How is it different? That means I didn't know your occupation either."

"Isabella," started Edward quietly. "First of all, I am not a qualified veterinarian. Not yet. Secondly, even if I were, which I am not, my occupation does not include millions of women swooning after me, having paparazzi follow my every step or having my love life all over the yellow pages. Thirdly —" he paused, locking eyes with Bella. With a tint of sadness, he added, "You never asked."

"I…" started Bella, at a loss for words. She hadn't? But she was so sure she had. "I'm… I'm so sorry," apologised Bella. "I never realised…"

Edward shrugged.

"So that's why you were so cool handling Ben," continued Bella. "I'm sorry I didn't ask, but you didn't mention it, either."

"Alright, let's do this how we should've done it from the beginning." Edward straightened his back, offering his right hand. "I'm Edward Masen, University of Wyoming graduate with Master's in Architectural Engineering, and a Doctor of Veterinary Sciences. Good with horses, bad with humans. Confident and terribly handsome. Nice to meet you."

Bella burst into chuckles, relieved by the change of atmosphere, and offered her hand back. "Bella Swan, better known as Isabella, an Otis College of Arts graduate with a Bachelor's in Fine Arts, an actress, semi-good at avoiding paparazzi and a horrible driver. Embarrassed to be colour-blind, shyer in person and, hm…"

"An Emmy and a — _two_ _time_ — Golden Globe winner, _and_ an Academy Award nominee?" Edward couldn't help but add, for the first time directly addressing what Bella had kept from him.

"Uh." Bella shifted, her eyes following a by-passer who had stopped to stare at her. She tore away her eyes, embarrassed. "Want to know a secret?"

"You manipulated with the results and that's why you won?" guessed Edward.

"No! Oh, my God, you really do have an awful opinion of me, don't you? No, of course I didn't. I just wanted to say that if it were up to me, I wouldn't have given myself those awards. Don't give me that face, I'm completely serious!"

"Is this self-deprecating behaviour Hollywood-style?"

"No!" denied Bella, flushing. "I'm serious. These awards should be given for a life-time of excellent work. I got them too early. It was difficult work, portraying a personality disorder, going to Antarctica and filming on location, don't get me wrong, but I wish I hadn't gotten as much recognition. It sort of sets the expectations so high I'm not sure I can jump over them. There are so many fantastic actors much more worthy of an award to such degree. At one point in my career, I _will_ mess up, and I don't want them to point out this performance and regret their decision."

Edward smiled gently, assuring, "That's not going to happen. I'm sure…" He hesitated. "I'm sure you're an amazing actress."

"Thank you," said Bella, grateful that Edward no longer seemed to blame her for having her occupation. After Bella and Edward had taken their orders, a teenage boy shyly approached the actress and asked for an autograph. Edward observed the way Bella wrote it, and the fan offered her a smile before he left. Bella blushed when she noticed Edward watching her.

"What?"

"That boy almost had a seizure even looking at you."

Bella hid her cheeks behind her palms. "He did not."

"I disagree."

Bella continued to hide her face under her hands, and the silence stretched. For a while, neither made eye contact, and when Bella couldn't take it anymore, she let out an audible sigh. They couldn't avoid the elephant in the room for ever.

"Hey, Edward, listen…"

"Isabella."

It didn't take more than his name — even the formal version of it — to make Bella close her mouth and blink. She swam in the deepness of his voice. God, she'd missed hearing it.

Edward rubbed his neck, an action so _Edward_ Bella actually smiled at him. He averted his eyes, realising he should be the aggressor of this conversation. "I should probably start."

"I messed up." He remembered the image of Jacob, a genuinely nice guy (much to Edward's frustration), and let the image squeeze his heart as a reminder of his failure. "I know that now, and I can't apologise enough. I'm sorry for the way I reacted. So, so sorry."

He sighed. "It was just so much to take in that the first girl I met in years happened to be so utterly out of league—" He raised his arm. "No, let me talk. If I can't get it out now, I might never do it. The truth is, I was used to my life. I was used to running my ranch alone, used to being alone. You could say I was much too comfortable with my life to attempt to change it. Not that I wouldn't like my home — I can't imagine living anywhere else. I didn't mind my life. But then you came around, and I… I guess you can understand why my chances of finding a girlfriend aren't too big, either because of where I live or how my face looks like —" Once again, Bella tried to interrupt.

"No, really, let me finish. So you could say I'd accepted that I'd never really find anyone, and then you sort of crawled under my skin. I wasn't prepared for that. So finding out you're an actress, and a famous one at that… I really did believe you tricked me. You're simply too good for me. More than anything, I think I was embarrassed for not knowing. And reacting the way I did. As angry as I was, you didn't deserve that. I could've handled the situation differently."

The slightest of smiles covered his lips. "So, I guess I offered you the sort of normalcy that's difficult to find over here, huh?" He motioned at the waiters, all of whom turned to their previous chores once they realised _the_ Isabella had seen them staring at her. Edward chuckled. "I just needed the chance to explain why I did what I did. It was wrong of me, and I'm sure my self-esteem might've had something to do with my reaction, but… but I didn't come here to win you back or anything." The words leaving his mouth surprised even himself, but he discovered he meant them. "So don't worry about that. I'm glad to see you happy."

He adjusted the glasses he'd forgotten on his nose, took them off, sighed and put a hand on his neck even though he'd quit rubbing it. "So yeah. I'm really no good at this, am I? I've never been good with people. I guess what I'm trying to tell you is that I'm more sorry than I can express, and I have no expectations." He offered her a sad smile, the sort that made Bella want to crawl into his lap and hug the hell out of him. She didn't. But hearing Edward say that she's forgiven meant the world to her, although she was sure her heart skipped a beat when he so sincerely announced that he had no intentions of winning her back. _So she shouldn't worry._

"Is it my turn now?" asked Bella, careful not to stammer and show how much his last words disappointed her. Edward nodded, the sad smile still in place. Bella took a deep breath.

"You're an idiot."

Edward had thought he was prepared for whatever she might have to say. He was wrong.

"I — excuse me?"

"An idiot," repeated Bella. "I thought since we're being honest, I should let you know that's my opinion."

Edward, who didn't fully grasp the emotion behind her words, lowered his head. He closed his eyes and rubbed the red stains on his nose.

"I see," said Edward with complete lack of emotion. "Okay. You don't really have to forgive me. That's alright, I guess."

"Oh, God," muttered Bella as she witnessed Edward already beat himself up before she had said anything. "Edward, look at me." He did, and the vulnerability overwhelmed Bella. "I'm the one who should be apologising. Of course I forgive you. I just needed to tell you what I thought of your habit of jumping to conclusions. You're obviously a smart guy, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt seeing you doubt my sincerity." She locked eyes with him. "I never, not once, feigned feelings."

Bella smiled slightly. "I'm… I am fully to blame for not telling you and I'm sorry. At the time, I thought I was doing the right thing, but I have no excuse for not telling you, and I apologise for that." She sighed. "And actors, they're not all bad, you know. We don't take our jobs home with us, at least I don't. I'm not playing a character in my own film. I _am_ my film, just like you are yours, and everyone else is theirs."

"I didn't know you minored in philosophy."

"I didn't." Bella smiled, and so did Edward. "What I mean is, I don't want you to forever doubt my intentions if we never meet after tonight. And please don't ever think you're not worthy of anyone. That's just prelude for having people play with your feelings. Solely submissive just begs for tyranny."

Edward chuckled, wanting to salute her. "Yes, ma'am."

Bella rolled her eyes. Both grinned, caught each other's eyes, and started to laugh. The awkwardness was replaced with familiar conversation. Bella slid her armchair closer to Edward, cringed when it squeaked and drew even more attention on her. She touched his wrist so tenderly Edward shuddered.

"What happened?"

Edward pursed his lips. "Promise not to be too smug if I tell you."

"Scout's honour." Bella lifted her arm, immediately continuing, "Carpal tunnel?"

Edward huffed, amused. "And that isn't smug?"

"No!" denied Bella, chuckling and leaning closer to Edward. He took a moment to inhale her scent.

"It wasn't, I swear!" she defended again as their eyes locked.

"Were you ever even a scout?"

Bella hesitated, caressing his arm absentmindedly and distracting Edward with the action. "Good point."

Edward laughed.

"But I _was_ involved in a film about boot camp. And I went through the real training, the toughest thirteen weeks of my life, so don't dismiss my honour as futile."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

The other arm caught Bella's attention, and she carefully slid it closer to her. It was no longer in a cast, but the back of Edward's hand was still covered in purple bruises. "Oh my God, this one, too?"

"No, that was… that was an accident. In a barn."

"Really?" asked Bella, so close and genuinely concerned Edward had to actually lean away from her to think clearly. "What happened?"

"Just an… accident. Not a big deal."

Feeling bad for Edward, Bella gently rubbed his hand. "The only thing predictable about horses is that they're unpredictable, huh?"

"Exactly," agreed Edward, glad that Bella herself provided an explanation for his other hand.

"So who's taking care of your horses?" asked Bella.

"Nobody. I sold them."

"Are you serious?" asked Bella in disbelief. "All of them? But you loved your horses!"

"Quite serious, yes. I did, but I… I needed change."

"What about Ben, did he recover?"

"Yes, of course. Slowly, but surely. He's in Emmett's hands now."

"I'm glad." Bella smiled slightly. "But seriously, how could you have dismissed your horses so easily?"

"Did I say it was easy?" reciprocated Edward.

"No, I — I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed."

"It's okay," assured Edward. "It was... odd, I guess. But I didn't say goodbye to keeping horses forever. Just for a while. I've been living side by side with them for so long I still get up at around dawn like I had to do chores. Which I obviously don't, so I end up jogging or reading or thinking of how much I miss my country life."

Bella smiled up at him, a genuine wide grin with all the charm she didn't realise she possessed, and Edward shifted in his spot, uncomfortable. He didn't know what to do in such proximity, especially since he could see the way she wanted to be friendly in her gestures, but unknowingly had an entirely different effect.

"Were there any other choices? 'cause for what it's worth, I'm glad you ended up in LA." She gently rubbed his gauze before looking up. "I'm happy we bumped into each other," admitted Bella almost shyly.

He managed a smile. "So am I," muttered Edward and did not mention the fact that there was nothing accidental about him choosing Los Angeles. His eyes followed her hand, touching his as Bella played with the edge of his gauze, pondering over something. The silence stretched.

Finally, she leaned so close Edward could feel her breath on his shoulder. Bella felt utterly embarrassed as she muttered, "Do you think…" She swallowed and locked eyes with him. "Would you — do you think you'd want to be friends with me after what I did?"

Edward rubbed his neck. "What you're really asking is — do I want paparazzi to think I have a life to follow?"

Bella sighed, biting a fingernail but grimacing after the taste of nail polish. "I'm not in control of that. I'm sorry."

"I'll learn not to care." As a tender gesture, Edward ruffled her hair without making it messy. "Of course we can be friends."

"Really?" Bella leaned away to look into his eyes. "You're sure?"

Edward smiled.

Forgetting that the restaurant was semi-filled with people, Bella leaped up and fell straight into Edward's arms. She tightly hugged his surprised form. "Thank you so much."

Edward tightened his hold, smelling her strawberry-scented perfume as his heart seemed to change location and beat between his ears. "You're thanking me for being your friend? Surely you don't have a problem finding them."

Remembering the location, the actress untwined her arms from around Edward and slumped back into her seat. She flushed, smiling in embarrassment. "One day, you'll understand what I mean."

Content with the direction of the evening, Edward asked, "Should I get you back to your place? It's getting late, and I have to be in the clinic tomorrow. I'm sure you have another busy day ahead."

"No, it's okay, I don't live that far. I don't mind walking."

"Alone? You're nuts."

"It's no problem. I can make a call and ask for one of my bodyguards to come and get me."

Edward huffed. "Did it occur to you I'm a male capable of defending you or are you purposefully trying to make me feel like a jackass?"

"No!" said Bella, horrified. "To the latter, I mean. Of course not. I'm sorry. But you're not obliged to send me home." After the tiniest pause, she challenged, "Are you suggesting that females are incapable of defending themselves?"

"Of course not," said Edward, smiling. "But you're just… you. And I don't have a reason to worry about getting home in one piece, but I think I'm right claiming that I'd be put behind the bars for two lifetimes if anything should happen to you."

"But —"

"What if I want to? I don't have a car, yes, but if you don't mind walking…"

"Okay," agreed Bella finally, getting up. She wasn't even sure why she'd been arguing; there weren't many things she minded less than Edward's company. "Sure."

After Edward dismissed all Bella's attempts to pay (but almost regretted the decision after having seen the cheque), they exited the fancy restaurant and entered a chilly November night. Bella crossed her arms to get warm, and side by side, they walked in silence, causing heads to turn.

"Is it always like this?"

Startled from her thoughts, Bella glanced at him. "Like what?"

Edward shrugged, motioning in the vague direction of the people on streets, who, the moment they realised they'd been caught staring, pretended Isabella and Edward didn't exist.

"Depends," replied Bella, gauging his reaction. "Does it bother you?"

"I wish it didn't. It just… I guess it'll take a while to get used to," said Edward. "It's different, though, I'm used to being stared at because of my face, and now they're not only staring at you because you're famous, but because I'm with you."

"Does _that_ bother you?"

Amused, the corner of Edward's mouth rose. "You're starting to sound like my psychologist. Next thing we know, you'll be asking how that makes me feel."

"How does that make you feel, Edward?" she repeated in mock-seriousness.

He chuckled, and noticed Bella's crossed arms. "Cold?"

She attempted to shrug it off. "I'll get warmer as we walk."

After a few seconds of hesitating, Edward wrapped his arm around her shoulder, tucking her by his side. "Better?"

She hummed, smiling shyly.

"Wait, you've got a psychologist?"

"No, not really. I mean, he's not a qualified psychologist. We just have, or had, these… sessions, I guess. We talk. Or I do, mostly, he listens, he asks questions, we argue… Sometimes, I feel like it's a lot simpler than I imagined. Other times, the meetings, the things we discuss, everything's way more complex than I could ever imagine."

"If you don't mind me asking…" Bella trailed off. "What're they about?"

"Well, basically…" Not knowing how to continue, Edward motioned at his head.

"I… I don't get it."

"My face," he replied simply. "More or less."

She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, he talked.

"Please don't," he said. "You're a good person, I can guess what you're about to say. That it doesn't matter, it's only a problem if I let it be one, it's all in my head. In a way, it is. It really, really is. Any person with a good heart will tell you that what's important is on the inside, that looks don't matter, that you can be a beautiful person without having the appearance of one. And all of that is true. But you know what? What they fail to stress is how much the insecurities affect your behaviour. How uncomfortable you can feel in your own skin. So we…" He shrugged. "We talk."

Bella took a glance at his eyes; they reflected the red light as they waited for the green one; although, for her, it was all brown. "It's never bothered me."

Edward pursed his lips in a smile. "Since we're having this conversation… I figured as much."

"But are the sessions about, like, gaining confidence and stuff?"

"Yes. No." He hesitated. "A little. It's more like… what happened and how I need to find a healthy way to address my emotions, I guess."

"What happened…" Bella trailed off as they crossed the street. "As in, what I did?"

"No." Edward squeezed her shoulder. "In a broader sense; as in, in my life, with my parents, how I've come to ascribe to guilt, stuff like that."

"It turns out I don't really know much about you," said Bella, looking up at him. "You can be quite cryptic."

Instead of answering, Edward tightened his hold, and they observed brand stores with peculiar high-fashion clothes in display, neither saying anything. Bella cherished the feel of being in Edward's arms. She felt safe.

"I've missed you," she whispered, wrapping an arm around his waist and leaning closer to him.

"I missed you, too." He offered her a gentle smile. "But you didn't exactly make it easy for me to contact you."

She leaned away to look into his eyes. "A phone number is a fairly simple concept, Edward."

"It would've been, had you bothered to actually give me one."

Bella frowned. "But I did — I mean, Alice did, she swore she did."

"There was nothing, Bella."

"On the box, under my address?"

"I've had your gift for three months now," said Edward. "There's nothing."

"But I — I don't understand. Alice said she wrote the number," reasoned Bella. "It must've worn off."

Edward, remaining highly sceptical, was certain he would've found a hint of a scribble had that been the case. But he said nothing.

"And all this time, I thought you were so mad you never wanted to hear from me again."

"It wasn't easy at the beginning," admitted Edward. "I couldn't understand why you'd want to keep something like that from me. I mean, getting used to the thought of you being famous is still kind of difficult, because your life is so different from mine, but I'll get there." Edward squeezed her shoulder, kissing her cheek. Friends did that, right?

Not wanting to overanalyse, Edward simply hummed in contentment and kept on walking.

Bella smiled to herself. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so cherished by anyone. "So, how's the little Jasmine? How're Emmett and Rosalie doing?"

"Oh, excellent. Emmett is teaching Jasmine how to curse properly, Rosalie keeps scolding him, and I put the girl to sleep."

"You sang?"

"Oh, no, I was just there. I'm probably the most boring uncle in the world, because the moment she's in my hands, she's asleep."

Bella smiled. "She probably just feels safe in your arms. You're pretty well-built, you know."

"Sure," said Edward in disbelief, although the fact that Bella thought so made him smile. "Sure I am. Have you seen your body-guard? I felt like I was introducing myself to a cupboard."

Bella burst out laughing. "He's a cool guy, actually."

"I just have to take your word for it."

It was starting to drizzle when they stopped in front of the familiar gates of Sobre las Nubes. Before Edward could pull away, Bella pulled him into a hug, sighing into his white cardigan. It fit him so well, and she felt too good in his arms. "I've missed you so much," she almost whispered into his shirt, but he heard her.

"So did I," mumbled Edward.

They pulled away from each other, and Bella immediately wrapped arms around herself. She noticed Edward didn't have outerwear. "Did you leave your jacket into the restaurant?"

"I don't really have one."

"What happened?"

"I… nothing, really. I gave it away." He shrugged. "So I guess I'll see you around?"

Bella smiled, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Of course. You promised to be my friend, you know."

Edward's face twisted in a way Bella couldn't quite understand before he offered her a smile. "Of course," he said. "Oh, and, by the way, can I — I don't know if you still want to, but can I have your number this time?"

"Oh, right," she entered her number into his phone, and gave herself a call. Edward gave her a humble smile, and waited until Bella was inside the gates and turned the porch light on before he left with a grin plastered on his face.

He would be her friend if that's what she wanted. How hard could it be, anyway?

.-*-.-*-.

Bella hadn't even had time to take off her shoes when the phone rang. She pushed them off, half-sliding and half-running toward the phone. She leaped onto the counter.

"Hello? Bella speaking." Her voice reflected the chirpy mood Edward's presence had caused, and when no-one answered, Bella asked, "Edward? Is that you?"

After listening to silence for five excruciatingly slow seconds, Bella shuddered, wishing she'd turned on the lights. "Edward, if it's you, please stop. You're scaring me." She felt goose-bumps on her back. "Is anyone there?"

Bella nearly dropped the phone when she heard ragged, barely-there breaths. She immediately pressed 'record.'

"Who's this?"

After a louder breath which affirmed Bella that she hadn't imagined the presence, the call was dropped.

* * *

**A/N:** Guess who's back from the dead? (Er, from America, I mean.) So how've you been? Busy? Me, too. This summer was, hands down, the most difficult thing I've ever done. I'm also probably breaking records of how slowly one could write a chapter.

Is an update in two weeks too soon or should I wait another 16 months? Either way, thanks for being so awesome.


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